


Open Highway

by Twin_Feathers



Series: Open Road Verse [3]
Category: Actor RPF, CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blackmail, Bottom Jensen, Debt, Doctor Jensen, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gang Violence, Gen, Gun Violence, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jealous Jared, Jealous Jensen, Jealousy, M/M, Motorcycle Sex, Motorcycles, Mpreg, Nightmares, Past Torture, Possessive Jared, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Jared, References to Drugs, Rough Sex, Shower Sex, Teacher Jensen, Top Jared, Torture, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2018-11-06 16:02:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 139,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twin_Feathers/pseuds/Twin_Feathers
Summary: Four years have passed since Jensen and Jared almost lost their lives and each other in the crossfire of a war between the Reapers and the Black Legion. Now they are parents and living the white-picket-fence life in New Haven. But when the past comes back to haunt them, how far are they willing to go to protect the ones they love?





	1. Chapter 1

 

**Open Highway  
** **Chapter 1**

_He was back in the warehouse, surrounded by the dead._

_All around him was the coppery stench of blood and beneath that, the acrid scent of death and decay, a whole mountain of rotten flesh and bloated carcasses._

_Jensen’s bare feet squelched through unseen puddles of gore as he tried to escape, but then the bodies started grappling for his ankles, digging sharply into his skin, tripping him and holding him captive._

_They spoke to him, guttural grunts of pain laced with gurgles of blood as it dripped down their chins._

_Jensen couldn’t make out the words but the meaning was clear._

_They wanted revenge._

_He was about to scream, about to yank himself free from their clutches when he saw it- there in the center of it all was Jared’s mangled body, dark blood trickling from the ragged hole between his eyes. The blood painted crimson tear tracks down his pallid cheeks as Jared’s dull eyes met Jensen’s in an accusing glare. “What have you done?”_

_Bewildered, Jensen looked down._

_There was a gun in his hands._

_“No,” he croaked, voice wrecked with denial and grief. “No.”_

_He dropped the weapon and fell to his knees, pulling Jared’s dead weight into his lap, trying to cradle his head and then choking on a sob when his fingers slipped on the mess of blood and brain matter. “No, no. God, Jay, please no…”_

_“You did this. You killed me,” Jared whispered, his voice brittle and hollow._

_It was the voice of someone who had been dead for a long time, tongue half rotted away and vocal cords dried up into strips of thin leather._

_“You’re a killer, Jensen. Look at me, look at what you did!”_

_Jensen shook his head frantically, hands shaking as tears streamed from his eyes._

_“NO. No… I d-didn’t mean to— I didn’t want this! Please forgive me.”_

_Jared’s eyes turned vile with anger, his face turned into a sneer and a bony hand shot forward to clamp around Jensen’s throat._

_“Never,” Jared growled as Jensen gasped and clawed at the ice cold fingers digging mercilessly into his throat. “NEVER!”_

Jensen thrashed awake, eyes ripped wide open and staring at the moon-washed ceiling above him; his chest heaving; heart hammering violently against his ribcage. He could still see the warehouse, dark and dripping around him; could smell the mustiness of the air, coupled with the metallic tinge of blood that had rested heavily on his tongue.

Jared’s blood.

Everything was too fucking close, the walls were closing in on him and he was trapped. Jensen clawed at the sweat-soaked linen, trying to pry the fabric away from his body when his fist suddenly connected with something solid and he heard a loud ‘oomph'. His head snapped up in surprise and he saw Jared staggering backward before bringing a hand to his face, eyes wide in the pale moonlight that filtered in through the shades.

Blood was dripping from Jared’s nose and running through his fingers. Thick oily crimson leaked from between his eyes, blossoming in gruesome beauty against his ashen skin. Blood bubbled from his blue lips as his eyes stared up at Jensen accusingly.

_You did this. Look at what you did._

“No,“ Jensen rasped brokenly, shoulders hitching as his body was wracked by another crushing wave of panic, his stomach flooded with nausea. “No, please.“

_Jared was dead. He was dead. And it was all his fault, oh god… oh god._

“Jensen, open up your eyes and fucking look at me!” Jared’s voice came from deep within his chest and was laced with a sense of authority that Jensen couldn’t help but react to. “You need to snap out of it, you hear me? It was just a dream. None of it’s real.”

The blood-spattered images of Jared’s lifeless body were burned into the back of Jensen’s eyelids, pressing into him relentlessly and without mercy. Bile was rising in the back of Jensen’s throat and he felt sick. He was going to be sick.

“Hey, easy. Take it easy,” Jared’s voice was back, low and comforting as the warm hands on his neck moved down his spine and guided him forward. Jensen could hear the worry in Jared’s tone, could feel the minor tremble in his hands where they rubbed soothing circles into his back.

“Listen to my voice and just breathe for a second,” Jared soothed, fingers curling protectively around the base of Jensen’s neck. “You’re safe. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Jensen nodded jerkily, relief hitting him so hard it took his breath away, made him dizzy.

It had been a dream, just another goddamn dream, nothing more.

Listening to the steady sound of Jared’s breathing, Jensen’s own heartbeat started to slow and his stomach began to settle. Gingerly, he moved his legs over the edge of their bed and wiped a shaky hand across his mouth, sweat and tears smearing under his fingers.

“Fuck,” he muttered into his palm, acutely aware of Jared hovering close by, close enough for Jensen to touch if he wanted and yet giving him space.

After a minute or two, when Jensen was sure that he had regained enough control over his body, he dared to look up and meet Jared’s eyes. The taller man’s hand was back at his nose, fingers coated red with blood.

Shit.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t been a part of his dream.

“Jay,” Jensen’s voice was laced with guilt as he got up and reached for Jared’s face. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m fine,” Jared knocked Jensen’s hand away, stemming the blood flow with the white V-neck he was wearing. “You’d think by now I’d have learned to give you your fucking space.”

Jensen wasn’t sure how hard he’d hit Jared, but judging from the sickening amount of blood Jared was now covered in, he must have caught him good. He grimaced and took a step closer. “Here, let me just—“

“I said I was fine,” Jared snapped and then his expression softened when he saw the look of misery in Jensen’s eyes. “Nothing a couple of Advil and a blowjob won’t fix.”

Jensen would have laughed if he hadn’t been so fucking close to losing it.

Jared sighed and turned serious again. “This one hit you way worse than usual.”

It wasn’t a question. Jensen nodded, unable to look at him or the blood that now soaked his shirt. He could hear a rustle of clothes as Jared started moving around the room, followed by the sound of a faucet being turned on in their bathroom.

When he looked up again a minute later, Jared was dressed in a clean shirt and the worst of the blood had been washed off his hands and face. Jensen offered him a wordless look of thanks, not even wondering anymore how Jared knew.

“Alright, c’mon,” Jared lightly nudged Jensen and inclined his head towards the small balcony that led out from their bedroom. He grabbed a pack of smokes and his zippo from the nightstand and weaved his fingers into Jensen’s clammy ones before gently dragging him towards the door.

The night was chilly, the last days of fall starting to fade into winter and a cold gust of wind breezed all over him, drying the tear tracks on his cheeks and soothing his frayed nerves. Beside him, Jared lit up a cigarette and handed the zippo to Jensen.

“It’s fucking freezing out here,” Jared complained and bounced a little on his heels to keep himself warm.

Jensen nodded absently as he tried to flick Jared’s zippo to life and failed, his hands shaking so badly he could hardly hold the thing, much less use it. Jared wordlessly covered Jensen’s trembling fingers with his own, guiding them until a spark of fire lit up the darkness.

They smoked in silence for a minute before Jared let out a heavy sigh, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the starless night. “You okay?”

Jensen snorted bitterly and shook his head, glassy eyes looking anywhere but at Jared.

“Those dreams are gonna be the death of me.”

Jared sighed and dropped the burning cigarette to the ground. He stepped up to Jensen and cradled the sides of his face with his hands, peering down into the younger man’s eyes with an intensity that caused Jensen to shiver.

“Who, this time?”

Jensen bit his lower lip.

“You,” he croaked, voice wavering at the admission. _‘It’s always you.’_

Jared continued to stare at him and Jensen found himself unable to breathe, not from panic, but from the intensity of Jared’s gaze, from the spell he had cast upon them. His hooded gaze flicked down to Jensen’s mouth and when he leaned in to press his lips against Jensen’s, the world around them fell away. The kiss was comforting in ways that words could never be, Jared’s hand resting below Jensen’s ear as his thumb gently caressed his cheek and their breaths mingled. It reassembled all the broken pieces inside of him, making him whole again.

Eventually, Jared pulled away and rested his forehead against Jensen’s.

“Think it will ever get better?” Jensen asked in a soft whisper.

He buried his face in the nape of Jared’s neck, basking in the familiar scent of pinewood and motor oil that was all Jared, his fingers curling tightly into the older man’s shirt.

“You know I do.”

 

Jared leaned against the hood of their sixty-eight Camaro and watched a horde of children swarm down the steps of the preschool.

He felt out of place among the other waiting parents in his ripped jeans and oil-stained shirt, tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his rolled up leather jacket.

When the front door of the school opened, Jared’s gaze flicked over and it wasn’t long before he spotted a familiar mop of brown hair standing out in the sea of gap-toothed grins and piggy tails.

“Daddyyyy!” Kelly’s loud shriek echoed through the entire yard as he barged past several other toddlers in his haste to run at Jared.

Jared caught the four-year-old around the waist and swung him up in a circle. “Heya, kiddo. How are we doing today?”

“Really good! Ms. Hoover said I drawed a nice picture. Do you wanna see it?”

“Are you kidding me?” He lowered the toddler to the ground and ruffled his hair. “Like I’d say no to another masterpiece of yours.”

“You’re silly, papa!” Kelly chortled, a grin spreading on his face like a wildfire. “We can put it next to the twi-ceruh—“

“Triceratops,” Jared supplied softly.

Kelly was totally obsessed with dinosaurs (and dragons, to a lesser extent) and their fridge was covered in the kid’s artistic variations of what their species must have looked like.

Jared pulled Kelly’s jacket up a little higher around his neck, protecting him from the wind that whisked through the parking lot. It was weird how these things came so natural to him now. Kelly had him wrapped around his chubby little fingers, without even realizing it.

“Uh… hi there,” a soft voice caused Jared to turn around, one eyebrow raised at the woman that had materialized out of thin air behind them.

She was older than Jared, probably in her mid-thirties and she looked nervous at approaching him.

“You must be Caleb’s dad?”

“It’s Kelly, actually,” Jared gave her a brief once-over.

_Tall, lean, bad taste in clothes, (who the hell wears red satin when they drop their kid off at preschool?)... blonde hair, pretty face, probably going to be a pain in my—_

“Oh,” she sputtered, obviously embarrassed. “My son’s been calling him ‘Cal’ so I thought— I’m sorry, can we start over? I’m Lauren, George’s mom.”

“Lauren,” Jared flatly repeated, wondering if he should know her or this George kid. Jensen was the one who usually kept up with their social calendar. The whole small-talk-act had never really been Jared’s forte.

“Can I help you with something?”

“I hope so,” she put on a plastic smile. “As you might have heard, there’s a bake sale for the tee-ball team next Saturday and I was wondering if maybe you’d be there? It might be nice with the boys, especially since he and George seem to be getting along quite well.”

Jared dropped a hand to Kelly’s head, carding his fingers through the baby-soft hair.

“There’d be refreshments for the parents if they wanted to stick around for a while longer,” she went on as if that would make the idea of her lame ass PT-event more attractive.

“I look like the baking type to you?” Jared asked and Lauren sputtered at the response. She opened her mouth and closed it again, at an apparent loss for words. Thankfully Kelly broke the awkward tension by giving an impatient tug on Jared’s jeans.

“Daddy, the picture! Can I show you my picture now?”

Jared crouched down to be at eye-level with his son and shot Lauren an apologetic glance.

“Listen, we’re not really into the whole baking business. But I’ll run it by Jensen and we’ll get back to you with an answer, alright?”

A flicker of something indiscernible, maybe disappointment, crossed her features.

“Oh, sure. I guess that would work.”

“Right, so, if that was everything…” Jared bowed his head to look at what Kelly wanted to show him, hoping that she’d catch a hint and leave.

She seemed to get it if the way she stomped off was anything to go by, the sound of her clicking heels echoing dully through the bustling parking lot.

“Hey,” Jared redirected his attention to back on his son; relieved that the interaction was over. “You gonna show me that picture now, or what?”

“I made it for you,” Kelly beamed and a rush of love swelled inside of Jared’s chest.

He handed the slightly crinkled and dog-eared drawing to Jared and blinked up at him expectantly, his green eyes dancing with childlike excitement. He definitely took after Jensen where creativity was concerned, drawing them pictures every day and leaving crayons in his wake like a trail of breadcrumbs. Jared unfolded the paper and swallowed, his heart clenching at the sight in front of him.

“That’s you and that’s papa,” Kelly explained, pointing at the two stick-figures in the middle, one slightly bow-legged and shorter than the other one.

Jared smiled at the black scribbles on his neck and arms that presumably meant to depict his tattoos.

“Dat’s your bike, daddy, look!”

For a four-year-old, Kelly’s drawings of motorcycles were impressively accurate. It was probably because he spent so much time surrounded by bikes when he and Jensen came to visit him at work or when he was tampering around with his Harley in the garage.

“This is the pipe where all the smoke comes out.“

“The exhaust pipe,” Jared offered up with a smile, appreciating his son’s eye for detail.

“Yes, dat’s the x’saust pipe and dat’s uncle Steve and aunt Katie,” Kelly explained and pointed at two smaller stick figures in the corner of the paper.

Jared huffed out a small laugh at the vivid mix of colors that was Katie’s hair.

He traced his fingers along the spindly figures, recognizing Tom (tall and with brown hair), Chris (with the infamous triangle eyebrows) and Danneel (had their four-year-old son really drawn boobs?) amongst the colorful bunch. He let his eyes wander over the rest of the gang; Chad and Sandy, with matching giant red crayon smiles and Elizabeth who was literally a pink blob with eyes. Jeff was there too, in the background, with bars in front of his face and Jared’s eyes stung.

Neither Jensen, nor Jared had reestablished any sort of contact with their blood relatives after Kelly was born, but they had made sure, even hundreds of miles away from South Boston, that their son knew who his _real_ family was. They made sure to include their friends in as many stories and anecdotes as possible, wanting for their son to have that connection, wanting him to know that there were people outside of him and Jensen, who would do absolutely _anything_ for him.

There had been Skype sessions and phone calls and visits over the holidays.

Kelly loved their friends; thought uncle Chris was the coolest thing since sliced bread, that aunt Dani was the most beautiful woman on earth (maybe second, after his kindergarten teacher), that uncle Misha made the funniest faces and that uncle Tom and Mike were yucky with their kisses and love-sick looks. Jared was inclined to agree with him on that last point.

“Do you like it?” Kelly asked, bouncing up and down on the heels of his tiny Converse sneakers and Jared ruffled his kid’s hair affectionately to cover up how emotional the picture made him.

“It’s perfect,” he said before straightening up and pulling the car keys from his jacket.

Kelly beamed up at him and Jared held out his hand for Kelly to take it.

“Why did papa not come to get me today?” Kelly piped up as Jared lifted him up into the booster seat and went about buckling him up. He would never get used to driving a fucking car instead of his Harley, but it wasn’t exactly like he could take his four-year-old to school on a motorcycle.

“Cause he’s got an important exhibition next week and he needs to prepare, remember?”

“The ver—vernsa—“

“Vernissage,” Jared corrected easily before testing the buckles one more time to make sure that Kelly was strapped into the seat safely. “It’s when people show their paintings to strangers. Remember when you and I came to visit your dad in the studio the other day?”

Kelly nodded eagerly.

“It’s just like that, only with your dad’s work. He’s going to present his art to strangers and maybe, if they like what they see, they’ll pay him to buy one of his paintings.”

“But you said he’s going to _present_ it,” Kelly pointed out, his forehead scrunched up in a frown that was all Jensen. “Don’t you give presents to someone for free?”

Jared snorted at the kid’s comment, feeling a pang of pride for how smart his son was.

“Yeah, you do, buddy. But in this case ‘present’ is just a different word for showing someone stuff.”

Kelly seemed to think about it for a minute, before he lifted a shoulder in a shrug, his expression brightening again. “Okay, daddy.”

“So what have you been up to, today?”

Kelly’s face lit up at the change of topic. “We learned about spiders, dad! Did you know that spiders have really many legs?”

“Really many, huh?” Jared smiled softly.

“Yeah, they’re so cool!” 

Jared glanced over at his son and took a turn with the car, steering it back into traffic.

“So tell me about spiders.”

 

 

Jensen was already waiting for them in the doorway.

His dark light brown had grown out and was beginning to curl slightly at the ends. When the thick strands caught in the sunlight, they looked lighter, almost golden and his eyes twinkled like emeralds across the driveway. Jensen hadn’t aged much in the four years since they had moved to New Haven. If anything, the years had made him look more beautiful, his features more defined beneath the freckle-kissed skin.

Jared often wondered how he’d ever gotten so damn lucky.

Having learned how to unbuckle his own seatbelt, Kelly was out of the car before Jared had even had a chance to come to a complete stop.

“Backpack, Kel,” Jared called after the toddler and dangled the bag loosely from his fingers.

Kelly skidded to a halt on the pebbled path that led up to their porch before tottering back to Jared, who already held the small Spiderman backpack out to him. “There you go.”

“Thanks, daddy,” Kelly gave Jared a gap-toothed grin and took off once again, running up the stairs to their house and flinging himself at Jensen’s leg with enough force to nearly knock him over.

Jared watched as Jensen scooped Kelly up with a fond chuckle and settled him on his hip, pressing an affectionate kiss to their son’s untamed curls.

“Welcome back, pumpkin. I missed you.”

Kelly squirmed in Jensen’s grasp, his unlimited energy making him restless once again.

“Papa! Papa! Did you know that spiders have four legs off the ground and four legs on the ground when they run?”

“Wow,” Jensen said with a look that was half-amusement, half-surprise. He glanced over their son’s head to share a smile with Jared. “I had no idea. That’s probably why they are so fast.”

Jensen lowered Kelly to the ground and they watched their son take off towards the living room, the crinkled, dog-eared drawing still in his hands. Jared trudged up the stairs of the porch and slipped an arm around Jensen’s waist.

“Hey, hot stuff.”

“Hey yourself,” Jensen leaned into the touch, hands reaching up to cup Jared’s neck.

“How are you feeling?” Jared asked, voice rough with concern.

“Better now that you’re here,” Jensen said, tracing Jared’s tattooed neck with his thumb.

“How are those paintings coming along?” Jared wanted to know and then frowned when he saw the dejected look in Jensen’s eyes.

“I didn’t get much done,” the younger man admitted in a whisper. “I just kept seeing...”

“ _Jen_ ,” Jared’s expression softened, his voice little more than a whisper.

“It’s okay,” Jensen appeased with a dip of his head. “I made us dinner instead.”

Kelly started screeching in the background and they reluctantly parted, following the noise inside. Their house looked like it was from the set of a futuristic steampunk movie, sleek metal frames, solid oak wood pieces, peeling vinyl and battered leather. There were smooth lines, a few antiques here and there, nothing too excessive. Adding to the general disarray of things, were Kelly’s toys and Jensen’s easels, chipped wooden frames and canvases; the faint scent of turpentine and paint still hanging faintly in the room.

Something was boiling on the stove and Jared’s stomach grumbled when the scent of grilled chicken and buttered corn filled his nose.

“Smells good,” Jared stepped closer to Jensen and peeked over his shoulder at the oven, one arm circling the younger man’s waist.

“Dinner’s ready in ten if you wanna get cleaned up,” Jensen said.

Jared snatched a roasted potato from the stove before he jogged up the stairs.

He was in and out of the shower in less than ten minutes, padding into their bedroom and tossing his drenched towel in the vague direction of the hamper. He could hear Kelly’s excited voice all the way up to where he was putting on slacks and a plain T-shirt, still gushing about spiders and demanding Jensen’s attention. Jensen was endlessly patient with him as he puttered around in the kitchen and shared the kid’s enthusiasm.

_“Kelly, did you know that the strongest material in the world is considered the silk that spiders create? It’s so awesome, that even scientists can’t imitate it.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yeah, really. The strongest silk belongs to the bark spider. It’s ten times tougher than any other spider’s silk and said to be the strongest fiber on earth.”_

_“How strong is it, papa?”_

_“Well, it’s believed to be stronger than Kevlar, which is used to make bulletproof vests.”_

_“Wow, that’s so cool!”_

Jared felt a smile tugging at his lips as the conversation took its inevitable course. Trust Jensen to teach a four-year-old about protective body armor.

He dug through the dresser for socks and then stopped when his eyes caught the photographs littering the large pin board above their bed. There were pictures of Tom and Mike kissing each other at their wedding; Danneel and Steve dancing, Misha with his arms slung around Jared and smiling drunkenly at the camera; Sandy in a gorgeous bridesmaid dress; Chad as he held a sleepy Elizabeth in his arms; Jared beaming at the camera as he cradled Kelly in his hands for the very first time.

In the middle of it all, was an old Polaroid picture of Jared and Jensen. It was shot on the day of Steve’s birthday about four and a half years ago when Jensen had asked Jared to come to New Haven with him. In the photograph, Jensen was sitting on Jared’s lap with his head tossed back in laughter. Jared had an arm curled around his neck; his face illuminated in the soft shine of the lanterns around them as they looked at each other like no one else was around, like they were the only two people left on earth.

“Jay, you coming?” Jensen suddenly hollered from the kitchen and Jared started, putting on a soft sweater as he left the bedroom and jogged down the stairs.

Jensen was already at the table, cutting a slice of chicken into smaller pieces for Kelly while their son picked at his vegetables. “Can I have ketchup?”

“What’s the magic word?” Jensen asked.

Kelly chewed on his bottom lip, forehead crinkling into a tiny frown. “Abwa-cadabwa?”

Jared chuckled as he loaded his plate with food. “Close enough.”

Jensen snatched the ketchup bottle from the kitchen counter and leaned down to be at Kelly’s eye level. “How do we ask someone nicely for something we want?”

“Can I _please_ have some ketchup, daddy?” Kelly beamed up at Jensen and Jared’s heart thudded hard in his chest.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” Jensen ruffled his son’s hair with a proud little smile while Kelly fumbled with the bottle, squeezing a generous amount of Ketchup on his plate.

Jared smiled.

For two whack-jobs with a crazy past they had this parenting thing pretty much handled.

 

 

“Hey man, what’s up?” Jared answered his phone and clamped it between shoulder and ear, all the while trying to wrestle Kelly’s clothes from him.

“I don’t wanna!” Kelly cried and thrashed in Jared’s hold, trying to yank himself free. Jared nearly lost his footing when Kelly’s foot kicked him in the groin. He let out a pained gasp and grappled for the phone as it threatened to slip from his shoulder.

“Quit it, Kel!” Jared growled. “It’s bath time.”

“But I _hate_ bath time!”

There was a chuckle and it was only then that Jared remembered that Chris was listening in from the other end of the line.

“Shit, man, I’m sorry.”

_“Sounds like you’re having two tons of fun.”_

“I'll call you back,” Jared ended the call and tossed the phone into the pile of dirty laundry on the floor before narrowing his eyes at Kelly.

Despite his fierce protests, Kelly eventually accepted his fate and ended up in the lukewarm bath water. Jared let his son splash about happily, playing with the little plastic lions Steve had given him for his birthday a couple of years ago. He tried to shave, getting rid of some of the mere beginnings of what Jensen jokingly referred to as Jared’s ‘hipster scruff’ and then gave up midway through when one of Kelly’s toy lions hit the floor with a wet splash.

“Alright, that’s it,” Jared sighed before crouching down next to the bathtub and pulling the plug from the drain. “Your fingers are getting shriveled. Let’s get you out of there before you turn into a mule.”

Instead of protesting, Kelly reached up to pat foam all over Jared’s chin and mouth.

“Now you’re Santa, daddy!” he giggled and clapped his hands together excitedly.

“I’m not Santa,” Jared protested and lifted Kelly out of the tub. “Santa’s old.”

“He’s not _that_ much older than you,” Jensen commented from the doorway and waved his I-Phone through the air with a wiggle of his eyebrows; finger hovering threateningly over the send button of the picture he had just taken. “Katie’s gonna love this.”

“Oh no you won't,” Jared growled out.

“Watch me,” Jensen grinned and took off down the hallway in a sprint.

“Go get him, daddy!” Kelly cheered and Jared didn’t have to be told twice.

Taking just enough time to lift Kelly from the tub, Jared sprinted down the hallway, chasing Jensen. He caught up with the younger man in their bedroom and picked him up around the waist before lifting him off the ground.

“No, stop— Jay, put me down!” Jensen laughed and then let out a cry of surprise when Jared tossed him onto the bed before crawling down on top of him and wrestling the cell phone from Jensen’s fingers.

“Gotcha!” Jared smirked triumphantly.

“It’s too late! I already sent it,” Jensen was laughing and Jared’s eyes narrowed.

“What do you think we should do with him, Kel?”

Kelly had joined them in the bedroom, leaving a trail of sudsy, wet footprints in his wake and climbing up onto the bed, a fluffy blue towel wrapped around his shoulders.

“Tickle him, daddy!”

“No, no no— guys, wait a second—“ Jensen protested uselessly as they both leaped forward, tickling him mercilessly as he sputtered and gasped.

After a minute, Jared leaned back, watching Jensen and Kelly as their laughter filled the air.

“A little help?” Jensen wheezed and Jared smiled before sweeping Kelly up in a fireman’s lift and easing him off the bed.

“Alright, enough punishment for one day, don’t you think?”

“Nooo!” Kelly protested gleefully, still giggling.

“It’s time to go to bed, kiddo,” Jensen said, still slightly breathless as he straightened up.

“But I’m not tired,” Kelly argued and Jared huffed out a soft laugh in response.

“Yeah, you are. C’mon,” Jared slipped off the bed with Kelly still in his arms.

“Good night, Kel,” Jensen said and pressed a soft kiss to Kelly’s temple.

“Night, papa.”

       

 

By the time Kelly was asleep, Jensen had taken a shower and gotten dressed in a pair of sweatpants. He was leaning against the sink, brushing his teeth when Jared sauntered back into their bathroom, his gaze zeroing in on Jensen exposed skin.

Jared stepped closer, hands automatically settling on either side of Jensen’s hips as he stroked across the jut of Jensen’s hip bone. “Hey. You okay?”

Jensen was silent for so long that Jared thought he might not get an answer. When he finally turned to face Jared, his eyes were glassy with faraway hurt. _‘No, I’m not.’_

Jared sighed and pulled him in against his chest, arms slung protectively around Jensen’s middle. “Come to bed with me?” he whispered; pressing a kiss to the nape of Jensen’s neck and watching as Jensen’s thick lashes fluttered close at the caress.

He led them over to the mattress and they curled up beneath the covers, Jared’s arm draped across his stomach. Jensen snuggled up against Jared’s body; Jared’s hands drawing comforting circles into his skin and never traveling any further than his waist.

He knew that the younger man wasn’t up for much more than being held that night. Jensen needed to feel his heartbeat thrumming steadily against his fingertips, to feel the warmth radiating from his skin and know that he was _alive_ , that he was right fucking there and not lying in a puddle of his own blood in that warehouse. And Jared was going to give that to him, just like he always did.

“I’m right here,” he whispered into Jensen’s skin and then leaned in for a kiss, feeling the soft yielding warmth of Jensen’s mouth as it opened up beneath his own.

The next morning was a blur of too many things happening all at once.

Their alarm clock didn’t go off, which meant they missed out on their morning quickie. Then, as if the lack of sex hadn’t been bad enough, Jensen burned the eggs for their breakfast and Kelly spilled his orange juice all over the kitchen table, causing a mess.

Jared was only half dressed and shoveling burnt eggs and toast into his mouth when Sophia rang the doorbell.

“I’ll get it,” Jensen said, already perfectly styled in his suit and tie, reading glasses perched low on his nose as he buttoned up the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“Wow, you look hot, Professor Ackles,” Sophia said in lieu of a proper greeting and then made a straight line for Kelly, who was munching on his Lucky Charms in the high chair. “Hi baby, did you miss me?”

“Aunt Sophia!” Kelly cheered and stretched out his arms above his head until she enveloped him in a tight hug.

“What, I don’t even get a greeting now?” Jared said in mock offense before dropping his plate in the sink with a clatter.

“No reason to get cranky, big guy,” Sophia stepped around Kelly’s chair to draw Jared in by the neck and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You gonna let your boyfriend go to class looking like an Armani model? Those kids are gonna eat him alive.”

“Not like I can prevent it,” Jared said, eyes narrowing at the thought of all those prissy college kids signing up for classes just so they could watch Jensen’s ass in a suit.

“I know how to fend off the groupies,” Jensen rolled his eyes and drained the last bit of his coffee before pressing a kiss to the top of Kelly’s head. “Be good for your aunt Sophia, alright, buddy? She’s going to pick you up from preschool at five.”

They left the house together, Jared with his sunglasses and leather jacket as he dug the keys out of his jeans and inclined his head towards the Harley. “I’ll give you a lift.”

“It’s a detour,” Jensen protested. He usually took the car or bus to work, depending on whether or not Jared needed it. “You’ll be late and your boss will—”

“Screw my boss,” Jared swung himself onto the Harley and slapped the leather seat behind him in a clear invitation for Jensen to jump on. He handed Jensen his helmet and then went about buckling his own chin strap. Safety was a thing now that they were being responsible parents and all. “I start coming on time and that fucker might just get used to it.”

Against better judgment, Jensen sighed and approached the bike. He sat down on the worn leather and slid forward, pressing against Jared’s back. Without being prompted, he wrapped his arms around Jared’s waist and held tight, every ab and chest muscle flexing under Jensen’s palms as the Harley howled to life.

The bike took a sharp left and Jensen shifted forward, settling closer to Jared’s strong back. When they stopped at a red light, Jared threw a glance back over his shoulder. “You know I love it when you feel me up, but can you maybe hold off until we’ve made it to the campus?”

“I’m not feeling you up,” Jensen blushed, heart pounding. How was it even fair that after all these years, Jared could still quicken his pulse like that?

“Then what do you call this?” Jared gestured down at his chest to where Jensen’s hands had wandered up across his stomach. Jensen jerked his hands away and resettled them loosely around Jared’s waist with a slightly miffed expression.

“I mean I get that I’m irresistible and all but it’s a little hard to focus when you’re doing that,” Jared teased.

Jensen blushed even harder at the words. “Would you shut up and drive?”

Jared’s laugh was muffled by his helmet but still clear as day. He hit the gas hard, causing the machine to emit a roar that ripped through the silent morning.

They made it to Yale in less than ten minutes and Jensen swung off the seat, dusting off his suit and staring moodily at the gray brick walls and towers of Yale University.

Jared killed the engine and propped himself up against the bike’s handlebars.

“You working at the clinic tonight?” he asked.

Not wanting to let his medical degree go to waste, Jensen had taken the next exam necessary in order to qualify to practice medicine as an intern alongside doctors at the local clinic.

Jared had been the one to encourage Jensen to contact hospitals and medical centers for placements because it was a necessary step in completing his licensure and even if Jensen decided not to go on a full-fledged residency, it wouldn’t hurt to complete the training. And if Jensen was honest with himself, he knew he enjoyed the mental challenge.

“Yeah. Probably won’t be home before midnight,” Jensen dropped his gaze, guilt weighing his heart down at the thought of another day spent apart from his family. “I’m sorry. I know it’s been happening a lot lately and—“

“Stop it,” Jared stared at Jensen so intently that it made Jensen breathless. “I know, alright?”

Jensen gave a terse nod. He knew that Jared supported him, no matter what.

“Okay,” Jared said. “Now go in there and show those posh fuckers what art is all about.”

Jensen smiled. “You know, your pep talks have gone to shit ever since we got together.”

He took a cursory glance around the relatively empty yard and then stepped forward, cupping the side of Jared’s face as he pulled him in for a goodbye kiss.

 

 

Jensen had taken on his job as a part-time Associate Professor at Yale soon after he had finished his fine arts master’s program. He hadn’t really had a clue back then what to do with his two college degrees and with family being his main priority, it was an easy enough decision to make.

They paid him well and Jensen loved to work with the students. The not so exciting part of his job came into play after his courses were finished when Jensen settled in his chair and started grading around fifty papers on ‘The Art Nouveau of the early 20th century’'.

It was early in the afternoon so it came as a bit of a surprise when Jensen was pulled out of his paper-grading by a sharp rap on the door. His head snapped up at the unexpected intrusion and he spotted Dr. Fuller, the Dean of the faculty, in the doorway of his classroom. “Jensen. I didn’t mean to startle you. Am I coming at a bad time? ”

“I get startled easily,” Jensen explained and willed his heart to slow down in his chest. “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?”

Jensen got apprehensive of people a lot these days. He certainly didn’t trust as easily as he used to, but the deep sense of unease he felt every time Fuller was anywhere near him was still a bit unsettling, even for him.

Sometimes, when they passed each other in the hallway, Fuller’s eyes would take on a weird glint and his lips would curl back into a smirk. It was a Cheshire grin of sorts, the kind that was so wide it was more as if he wanted to eat Jensen rather than say hello. It was also the kind of smirk that would cost Fuller all of his teeth if Jared was ever around to see it, but that was a topic for another time.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Kurt?” Fuller chastised as he walked up to Jensen’s desk and sat down on the edge of the workspace. Subconsciously, Jensen scooted back with his chair. He thought it was a bit unprofessional to drop all formalities with his boss, but who was he to deny the Dean of the faculty such a simple request?

“Is there anything I can do for you, _Kurt_?” he said, putting just enough of an edge to the name to let the older man know that he had no intention to deepen their relationship.

“Much better,” Fuller praised as he settled further into Jensen’s desk. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. After all, this must all still be very new for you, standing in front of all these people and teaching them.”

“Talking in front of people is pretty much my job description,” Jensen shrugged.

And besides, once you had been kidnapped, beaten, tortured and forced to pull a trigger on the person you loved most in the world, public speaking seemed like a fucking walk in the park. But it wasn’t exactly like Jensen could use that as an argument.

Fuller’s laughter sounded hollow in the tension-thick air. “Well, alright, then. I can see I’m not needed.” He turned to walk away and then hesitated. “Oh, just one more thing...”

Jensen barely suppressed an eye roll at the guy’s persistence. “Yes?”

“Was that your husband this morning?” Fuller asked and Jensen’s mouth dropped a little. He had never mentioned Jared to anyone in the faculty before.

“I saw you two in the parking lot,” Fuller explained. “The way you said your goodbyes didn’t really leave much doubt about the nature of your relationship.”

Fuller’s voice took on a dark tone at the words and Jensen’s eyes narrowed as anger flared hot and sour in his guts. Who the hell did Fuller think he was, questioning the nature of his relationship with _anyone,_ least of all the father of his kid and love of his life?

So maybe they weren’t the picture-perfect married couple, rocking their little tots on the front porch of their white-picket-fence house. Maybe Jared’s hard-ass attitude and tats had surprised a strung-up faculty member like Fuller, but that didn’t give him the right to question Jensen’s life choices.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Jensen said with a sudden sharpness to his voice because the days where he had been scared to admit his sexuality were long over. “We’re not married.”

“Maybe you’d like to introduce us when he comes to get you later,” Fuller suggested with that same self-sufficient smirk that was a permanent fixture on his face.

Jensen tensed even further at the words. If _he_ already had a hard time containing himself around Fuller, Jared probably wouldn’t last a minute before knocking the guy’s teeth down his throat.

“Yeah, we couldn’t really find a babysitter for tonight so I don’t think he’ll make it,” Jensen brushed him off, unapologetically. “But maybe another time.”

“Of course,” Fuller said. “Family comes before everything, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed, the uneasy feeling in his guts intensifying. “It does.”

 

 

Jared was crouched over an old Mercedes and thinking about how fucking hopeless the piece of shit car was when his boss suddenly walked in the garage with a sour expression on his face. Jared had the sinking suspicion that he had never seen the inside of a car’s hood before, but that didn’t keep the grouchy mechanic from ordering Jared around like he was his personal house slave.

“Stop wasting your time with that thing,” Will ordered with a scowl. “The garage needs some scrubbing so you can work on that instead.”

_‘And you can suck my fucking dick you motherfucking—’_

“Hey!” Will snapped his fingers like Jared was some fucking dog and earned himself a death glare for his trouble. “You deaf or something? Move your ass and start cleaning.”

“I’m not your fucking house maid, Will,” Jared spat out and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You want me to clean this fucking dump, you better be paying me double.”

Will snorted at that and responded, “The money I pay you is getting your family fed and sleeping under a roof, so if I’d be careful if I was you.”

Jared went rigid at the words, fingers curling tightly around the lug wrench he was still holding in his hands; imagining what it would feel like to bash Will’s fucking head in. Then he locked his jaw and took a deep breath to keep himself from doing something incredibly stupid… it wasn’t worth losing his job over.

“That’s what I thought,” Will said after a moment of silence, looking smug as he grabbed a dirty rag from the floor and tossed it over at Jared, who caught it reflexively. “I’ll go on a supply run. That floor better be shiny when I come back.”

Will turned around to leave and Jared waited until he heard his car pull out of the driveway before he slammed the wrench down hard on the Mercedes with a growl, denting the hood in a way that made it damn near unsalvageable.

_Fucking piece of worthless trash._

Will had another thing coming if he thought Jared was going to lift a damn finger to clean this dump.

Grabbing a beer from the small fridge in the corner of the garage, Jared walked outside into the junkyard and fished a crinkled pack of cigarettes from his jeans. Technically he wasn’t allowed to go on a cigarette break when no one else was around to watch the garage, but then again, rules were meant to be fucking broken.

He leaned against the rusty carcass of a Ducati he’d used for spare parts earlier; bright stormclouds dominating the morning sky all around him. There was a hint of greyness there, a suggestion that rain might play a part in the days to come.

Jared flicked his zippo to life when his phone suddenly began to chirp in his leather jacket. Fingers still smeared with grease and motor oil, Jared fished his cell from the pocket and picked up without looking at the caller display. “Yeah?”

_“Hi, son.”_

Jared closed his eyes at the sound of Jeff’s voice. “It’s been too fucking long.”

Jeff chuckled and it was a gruff sound, low and affectionate.

 _“Jensen and Kelly alright?”_ he asked and Jared sighed, running a calloused hand over his face. “Fine. What about you? You okay?”

There was a heavy pause and Jared began to frown, worry settling deep in his guts.

“Jeff?” he demanded. Jeff’s breathing was off; a little too hasty for a casual call with small talk and there was a heaviness to his tone that meant trouble was brewing.

Jared stomped out his cigarette with a little more force than necessary, boots crunching against the gravel of the junkyard. “Alright, talk. What the fuck is going on?”

Jeff was quiet again. There was something the older man wasn’t telling him and Jared had the sinking suspicion that it wasn’t anything good.

“Tell me about Kelly. He still growing like a weed?”

Jared could see right through Jeff’s words, recognizing them as the distraction method they were meant to be, but he still couldn’t bring himself to deny Jeff an answer. Pride made his voice mellow at the thought of his son, of how bright the kid was, how creative and energetic and kind. How perfect. “He’s…” Jared cleared his throat, suddenly fighting to keep his emotions in check. “Fuck, Jeff, he’s incredible.”

 _“Keeping you both on your toes, huh?”_ Jeff chuckled.

“Yeah,” Jared smiled, throat uncomfortably tight as he swallowed. “Yeah, he is.”

_“Good, that’s… that’s good, Jay. I’m happy for you. Listen, I uh… time is almost over, so tell Jensen I said hi, okay?”_

Jared swallowed back a protest, heart clenching painfully in his chest. “I will.”

 

 

The second Jeff hung up the grimy prison cell phone, he knew he had fucked up.

He should have _told_ Jared, should have warned him about the rumors that were circulating around the entire jail block. Rumors about Ty, about how he got out on good behavior and was starting up trouble back in South Boston.

But Jared was happy. The boy was genuinely happy with the life he had built for himself and Jeff didn’t have it in himself to ruin that. He couldn’t do it.

Jensen and Jared had spent four years trying to get over what had happened to them and now that they’d finally found their peace. How the hell was Jeff supposed to tell them it might not last?

 

 

The hospital hallway was like something straight out of Star Trek; everything that could shine did shine. There was stainless steel, sleek linoleum floors and the air had a pure, sterile quality to it. The walls were a white and scraped in places from the hundreds of gurneys that must have bumped into them over the years.

Jensen was dressed in blue scrubs and feeling like a cast member of Gray’s Anatomy when he joined a group of interns in one of the break rooms. The physician on duty was giving them a rundown of what they were dealing with this evening and Jensen grabbed a chair, sitting down at the round table. Luke, one of the younger interns who had taken a shine to Jensen shot him a welcoming smile and waved his hand at him like a lovesick teenager. The others barely spared him a glance, their eyes and attention focused on the doctor’s words.

“—68-year old woman with a history of heavy tobacco use who was found to have a solitary lung nodule on chest computed tomography. The pathology from a recent bronchoscopy revealed adenocarcinoma,” the doctor went on, unbothered by Jensen’s late arrival. They usually let him get away with pretty much anything because Jensen was kind of genius and they knew they were lucky to have him. “What further staging workup is necessary for this patient before surgical resection?”

“Brain magnetic resonance,“ Luke piped up, always eager to show off his knowledge to the doctors they were working with.

“Wrong,” Doctor Phillis cut the young man off and her eyes latched onto Jensen. “Ackles?”

Jensen tried not to feel bad for Luke when a flicker of disappointment crossed the younger man’s features. “I’d go with a PET scan. It’s the standard workup for non-small cell lung cancer. The test’s advantage is its negative predictive value when uptake in the primary tumor is insufficient and important hilar lymph node disease is absent.”

“Good,” Doctor Phillis praised with a small smile and then got up from the table to stalk off down the hallway. Luke turned to follow the doctor alongside the other trainees and Jensen rose to his feet and grabbed the dark-haired med student by the sleeves of his blue coat, holding him back. “Wait a second, Luke. I didn’t mean to—“

His voice trailed off when he came to his full height and wobbled for a moment, black spots dancing on the edge of his vision. Luke reached out to steady him and Jensen gripped the other man’s arm tightly to steady himself.

“Jensen?” he questioned, voice gentle and laced with thick worry.

“I’m fine,” Jensen responded softly, blushing a bit as he quickly let go of Luke’s arm and stepped out of the other man’s hold. “Must be orthostatic hypertension,” he reasoned, shaking his head as though in irritation over some invisible annoyance. When Luke just stared at him in confusion, Jensen let out a small breath. “Head rush,” he supplied softly, thankful that it hadn’t happened in front of the others. He had never exhibited any form of vulnerability at work or in the clinic before, not even one as small and irrelevant as a bout of dizziness. He didn’t like to show weakness in front of strangers- to allow others to see him that way.

“Listen, uhm… earlier when Phillis was asking her question. You know I didn’t mean to steal your thunder, right?”

“I know,” Luke quickly reassured. “I wish I could remember all this stuff like you can.”

“My brain’s not… it’s not exactly normal,” Jensen laughed softly, shaking his head. “Don’t try to compare yourself to a freak like me, alright? You’re doing just great.”

“Not as good as you, though,” Luke said, looking up at Jensen with a mix of awe and hero-worship that made Jensen feel awkward and flattered at the same time. “But then again, you’re incredible.”

Jensen swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable. He had hoped the kid’s infatuation with him would blow over with time, but apparently, it was time for Jensen to burst his bubble. “Yeah, listen—“

Just when he was about to lay down the law with Luke, his phone started chirping in his pocket. “Sorry,” Jensen gave the guy an apologetic look and pulled his cell from his lab coat, instantly relaxing when he saw Katie’s name on the display. Jensen tapped the screen and smiled when he saw the picture she had sent him. It was a photo of herself, sitting in Steve’s lap and grinning at the camera, while Chase was photobombing them from behind.

 **_‘You guys doing anything dirty I should know about?’_ ** _(Message from: KATIE. Received at: 18:17 PM)_

 Jensen felt a pang of longing in his chest as he typed his response. **_‘Solitary lung nodule on chest computed tomography. Sound dirty enough to you?’_** _(Message from: You. Sent at: 18:19 PM)_

 **_‘How’s the training going?’_ ** _(Message from: KATIE. Received at: 18:19 PM)_

 ** _‘Good, just feeling dizzy.’_** _(Message from: You. Sent at: 18:19 PM)_

 **_‘Overworked? Or preggers?’_ ** _(Message from: KATIE. Received at: 18:20 PM)_

Jensen stared at the text for a long moment. He was 99% sure that Katie was just kidding, but the words still made his mouth dry and his blood pump much faster.

He had thrown up quite a lot in the past weeks but he had pegged it on the nightmares. Jared had been working a lot of early shifts lately and when he wasn’t there to calm Jensen, the nightmares usually left Jensen a mess on the bathroom tiles; sweat-covered and bent over the rim of the toilet bowl as he retched in harsh, painful heaves of air.

In between flashbacks and nightmares and working crazy hours, the thought that he might be pregnant again hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Jensen, are you alright to go? I think they’re doing the tomography, so maybe we should…” Luke inclined his head towards the door of the break room, suggesting for them to join the rest of the trainees outside.

Jensen just nodded, still feeling a bit shaky. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”

 

 

It was well past midnight by the time Jensen got home and he was exhausted.

The clinic had been hell tonight, pretty much all bad news and panicked relatives and no matter how hard Jensen had tried to get back home in time, he also knew that these people needed him. In between giving tetanus shots and putting legs into casts time had seeped through his fingers like sand and soon enough it had been dark outside.

It was his third night this week that Jensen was coming home after midnight, not having seen his family all day, and it sucked.

He sighed, turning the key in the lock and opening the front door of their duplex.

A pale flicker of light was casting shadows onto the carpet in their entry hall and Jensen’s heart sank at the thought that Jared might have actually waited up on him.

“Jay?” he asked softly, careful to keep his voice low as he padded through their kitchen and into their spacious living room, where he could see light coming from the television. He glancing up to see that the start menu of Kelly’s Finding Nemo DVD was playing and then stopped at the sight that greeted him. His heart gave a painful tug in his chest and his fingers itched for his phone to capture the perfection of this moment.

Jared was sprawled out on the couch with Kelly on top of him, snuggled up comfortably against his daddy’s neck, literally every inch of the four-year-old pressed against Jared’s chest, while Jared’s arms were curled protectively around the toddler’s back.

Subconsciously, Jared must have moved his arm to keep him from slipping off the couch. Even in his sleep, he was every bit the protective and loving father.

Jensen swallowed around the lump of emotion that had lodged itself deep in his throat. He was struck with a sudden wave of awe and gratitude for their family and these two people that have turned Jensen’s entire world upside down.

But it wasn’t just the way they lay curled up together that got to Jensen, it was Jared’s face, too. Jared’s cheeks and chin and even his forehead were covered in a series of stickers that looked suspiciously like the removable tattoos Steve had brought along the last time he had visited.

His hair was a wild mess too; the luscious brown strands sticking off his head at odd angles from where Kelly had undoubtedly tried to give him a new hairstyle.

Jensen bit his lips to hide his grin as he stepped closer, wondering if the beauty styling had taken place before or after Jared had fallen asleep because while Jared usually let their son get away with pretty much anything, his hair had always been sacred to him.

Jensen gently brushed his fingers against Kelly’s rosy little cheek and the soft touch was apparently enough of a disturbance to wake Kelly up and Jensen silently cursed himself for not being able to keep his hands to himself when two huge, startling blue eyes blinked up at him tiredly from behind thick lashes. “Papa?”

Jensen lowered himself down to the edge of the couch, reaching out to brush a hand through Kelly’s thick, blonde curls. “Hey there, Kelly-Bean. I missed you.”

Kelly blinked lazily and gave a loud yawn, his little arms stretched above head as he squirmed and tried to get into a sitting position. The movement caused Jared to wake up as well and Jensen watched his boyfriend’s hazel eyes open, his gaze distant and sluggish as it came to rest on Jensen’s face.

“Hey,” Jensen whispered as Jared sat up on the couch. Jared glanced away and cleared his throat, rubbing a weary hand over his features and grimacing when he felt the stickers that littered his cheeks and forehead.

“Hi,” he answered, voice raspy from lack of use.

“Will you read me a story, papa?” Kelly yawned again and Jensen sighed before gently disentangling a pliant Kelly from Jared’s lap and settling the sleepy toddler against his own chest. “Not tonight, buddy. I’ll read you one tomorrow, okay?”

Kelly made a half-hearted attempt at a protest, but for once, his weariness outweighed his stubborn streak and he was back asleep in Jensen’s arms in a matter of seconds, snuggling close and pressing his tiny face against Jensen’s neck like he used to do when he was still a baby.

The pliant weight and warmth of Kelly’s body against Jensen’s chest alleviated the guilt of not having been there to tuck him in at night for the past few days and Jensen found himself smiling over at Jared.

“I’m digging the new style,” Jensen whispered over their son’s head, barely able to hold back a grin. “It suits you… especially what you did with the hair. I mean it’s—“

“Shut up,” Jared grinned and pulled Jensen down by the neck for a languid kiss.

 

 

They ended up in the shower, somehow.

Their clothes formed a trail from the hallway to the bathroom, ripped off in between curses and pleas and increasingly fervent kisses until both of them were naked and Jensen was pressed up against the cold tiles with Jared plastered to his back, trailing kisses down his neck.

Jensen tilted his head back, melting into the touch It was almost too easy to get lost in kissing through the steady stream of hot water cascading down around them and Jared’s strong arms wrapped around his middle.

The door to the bedroom was propped open so they could hear Kelly if he woke up, but the sound of water hitting the shower stall created an illusion of privacy and Jensen’s already hard cock was aching by the time they broke apart and came up for air.

Jared bit the skin on Jensen’s neck, sucking a bruise into the marred flesh above Jensen’s collarbone and covering the cigarette burns with a mark of his own. Jensen gasped when Jared’s fingers slipped between his cheeks and ghosted over his opening.

“Do it. C’mon,” he urged, breathlessly.

“Do what?” Jared hummed, feigning innocence. He kept biting and sucking at the pale, freckled skin on Jensen’s neck and collarbone. “Tell me.”

“Fuck me,” Jensen demanded and then moaned in surprise when Jared’s fingers came back with more purpose, slick and hot and pressing against his rim with just enough pressure. He propped a foot up on the edge of the shower stall, but that only ended up getting him more friction, his throbbing dick rubbing up against Jared’s hip and Jesus fucking Christ, he wasn’t going to last if a little bit of foreplay already got him this bothered. Thankfully, Jared wasn’t in the mood to play around.

“Want me to fill you up, baby?” Jared slid one finger inside and then added another, stretching him nice and thorough as Jensen panted; tiny droplets of water flying from his kiss-swollen lips and clinging to his thick lashes.

“You hungry for my cock?” Jared growled out in between kisses and thrusts of his fingers, pressing against his prostate in all the right ways and Jensen nodded helplessly. “Y-yeah, fuck. Yes. C’mon.”

Despite the urgency in their eyes and words, they ended up fucking each other slowly, almost luxuriously so. They took their time like they rarely got the chance to anymore and Jensen’s toes curled with it as he clung to Jared like his life depended on it, fingernails digging into the taller man’s muscular back, aching from the pleasure and the fullness. Four fucking years of this, of them, and Jensen still wasn’t quite used to the depth and intimacy that was sex with Jared. He hadn’t thought it was going to be like this forever.

“I- Jay, please—“ Jensen wasn’t even sure what he was asking for at this point. Jared’s only response was to get his strong arms hooked under Jensen’s legs and to hike him up against the shower stall, pressing his full bulk up against him to keep him locked in place as he fucked into him deep and hard, making Jensen whimper.

His cock was still trapped between their slick bodies, rubbing against Jared’s abs with each and every powerful forward thrust and the friction, combined with Jared’s unrelenting stamina, was enough to send him toppling over the edge.

Jensen hit his head hard against the wet tiles behind him, the wave of buzzing pleasure spreading from his balls up the column of his spine until it exploded in bright fireworks on the insides of his eyelids. Jared sped up his movements and Jensen went slack against the shower stall, black dots dancing behind his eyelids as Jared fucked him through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

They kissed and Jensen devoured the grunts that came from the back of Jared’s throat, swallowing the desperate puffs of air that he let out as he chased his own release. He came with a low grunt and a shudder and collapsed against Jensen, holding them both up with his strong arms braced against the slippery tiles and grinding his cock deep inside until the pleasant buzz of pleasure began to shade into oversensitivity.

The air was damp and heavy, steam evaporating from the tiles and their bodies as they tried to catch their breaths. It was heady and dizzying and so fucking _intimate._

Jensen brushed his thumb over Jared’s kiss swollen bottom lip, hissing softly against the taller man’s mouth when Jared’s dick slipped out of him and Jensen clenched at the empty feeling left behind. He unhooked his legs from Jared’s waist to slide down the shower stall, thumb running up and down the side of Jared’s neck in a soft caress.

“Fuck, I needed that,” Jared murmured, voice rough and pupils blown from exertion. He cupped Jensen’s flushed cheeks with both his large hands, kissing him sweetly and Jensen’s legs threatened to buckle, his heart melting right out of his chest.

Then Jared tipped his head back into the spray of water, shuddering lightly and Jensen smiled, private and pleased before tucking his face against Jared’s neck. “Yeah, me too.”

They stayed slumped together like that for a while until they reluctantly disentangled themselves so they could shower properly. Jensen’s movements became a little sluggish then, the lack of sleep and hours of strenuous work finally catching up with him. Jared helped him rinse the soap from his hair and get cleaned before washing his own body down. He got out of the shower first and steadied Jensen when he swayed, a cloud of hot steam fogging up the bathroom mirror and glass surfaces around them.

“Woah, easy,” Jared said in a gruff voice, snaking his tattooed arms around Jensen to hold him upright. “You okay? Need to sit down?”

Jensen’s eyes were barely staying open at this point but he gathered enough energy to shake his head. “I’m fine,” he said when Jared wrapped a towel around his back. “Just tired.”

Jared nodded. “Let’s get you to bed, then.”

“Being a parent, slash college professor, slash med graduate is exhausting.”

“I know,” Jared said fondly and pushed Jensen’s soggy strands of hair off his face. “That’s why I’m telling you to sleep.”

Jensen yawned as Jared gently steered him out of the bathroom and towards their bed.

“Here, put these on,” Jared handed Jensen pajama pants and a clean tee.

“You’ll check on Kelly, right?” Jensen mumbled, sluggishly pulling the shirt over his head.

“As soon as you’re all set up,” Jared assured and then smiled when Jensen sank back into the cushions, eyes fluttering closed the second his head hit the pillows.

 

 

It was late by the time Katie eased herself out from underneath Steve’s heavy arms. He was still asleep and she didn’t want to wake him as she gathered up her tank top and jeans from the floor and put them back on before grabbing her phone from the nightstand.

She frowned when she noticed that Jensen hadn’t replied to her earlier joke about being pregnant and made a mental note to check in on him early the next morning.

She walked out of Steve’s door, nighttime stretching ahead of her as long as the roads they’d traveled in the past. No one was walking the streets; the only sound coming from the low rumble of cars and eighteen-wheelers that sped down the nearby highway.

Steve would probably kill her when he woke up to find her gone, realizing she had taken her bike home in the middle of the night again, but Katie couldn’t help it. She had tried to sleep next to him but was kept awake by Steve’s insufferable snoring. When three o’clock came and went and she still hadn’t slept a wink, she had drawn the line.

Katie watched the streets carefully, feeling a sense of discomfort creep over her; skin prickling as if someone was watching her. She caught sight of a flicker of movement, sneaking up on her in the shadows of the night and dread settled in her heart. A twig cracked somewhere behind her and Katie mentally cursed herself for not bringing a gun.

Breath speeding up, she stopped in her tracks and reached back to the knife she kept hidden in her inner jacket pocket.

 _Stupid, stupid, so fucking stupid_ —

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” a deep voice rang out, low and dangerous and Katie felt as if someone had poured a bucket full of ice water down her veins. She knew that voice, but it couldn’t be. It _couldn’t_ be. No fucking way.

Ty’s face was half-hidden in the shadows but it was him, nonetheless.

He wasn’t alone.

Katie’s chest filled with dread when she saw the two guys flanking Ty on either side. She didn’t recognize their faces, but the skull-and-bones gang logo on their black leather jackets gave them away and so did the loaded guns sticking out of the waistband of their jeans.

The years in jail had aged Ty faster than she would have imagined. He had lost weight, his cheeks were sunken in and he had grown a gray goatee. How the hell had that fucker gotten out of that shithole so fast?

“You ganging up on girls, now?” She snorted, shaking her head with a bitter smile. “I mean not to say that I won’t kick your asses, but three against one ain’t exactly fair chances.”

Ty smirked and when he stepped forward, dragging a baseball bat behind him, across the gravel. “Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart, but this was never supposed to be a fair fight… and guess what?” he lifted the baseball bat up over his shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows, eyes glinting with a sick spark of pleasure. “There’s four of us if you count my little friend, here.”

Cold dread had her stomach locked up tight, nothing getting in or out. It crept over her like an icy chill, numbing her brain. “What do you want?” Katie asked, voice hollow and resigned, she didn’t usually go down this easily but she was outnumbered and quite literally bringing a knife to a gunfight. She could try to make a run for it, but that would most likely get her shot in the back and that wasn’t how she pictured going down.

Ty smirked and sent his two buddies a fleeting glance from the side. “What I want?” He took a step forward and lifted the bat to the side of her head, pushing her brightly colored hair out of the way. Katie pressed her lips together and forced herself to hold still, even when her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of rough wood against the side of her skull. “How about I want the past four years of my life back? Think you can help me with that, Kitty-Kat?”

Katie held Ty’s gaze defiantly, a spark of fire in her eyes. “What I think,” she said slowly, rolling the words off her tongue. “Is that you can go fuck yourself you piece of fucking shit.”

“Well, I guess that settles it,” Ty said and a sick smile crept over his feature. It was the last thing he said before swinging the bat at her with a resounding whoosh.

 

 

In the parking lot of Kelly’s preschool, a small group of soccer moms was gushing excitedly about what desserts they were going to bring to the bake sale.

“You know Baby Spice over there, with the plastic smile?” Jared asked almost randomly as he ran his tattooed hand through his hair, inclining his head towards the other parents across the yard. He was clad in a dark v-neck and ripped jeans, biker boots untied, hair unkempt and buckles of his leather jacket undone.

“You mean Lauren?” Jensen’s eyes narrowed in on the woman in question. He didn’t know her very well but he had seen enough to know that she wrapped herself around single men faster than food wrap and she was just as transparent. She would bat her overly mascara-clotted eyelashes at any male parent with her cloying vapidity, simpering softly until he told a joke or sent a fleeting glance towards her boobs and then she would giggle like she was three years old.

Jay tapped his Ray-Bans against the hood of their Camaro and nodded.

“What about her?” Jensen asked, voice coming out a bit sharper than he had intended.

Jared shrugged. “She asked if I was going to bring something for the bake sale.”

“Of course she did,” Jensen growled. After all, it had only been a matter of time before she started hitting on Jared. She’d been not-so-subtly checking him out for a while now and probably only waited for the right moment to corner him. Bitch didn’t seem to care about the fact that Jared was in a relationship, but then again, that had never stopped her before.

This time, however, Lauren had picked the wrong guy to lust after.

Jensen waited just long enough for her to make eye contact before he wrapped his arms around Jared’s neck and kissed the living shit out of him.

It was rough and demanding, but the second Jared caught on with the program, he matched Jensen’s pace giving as good as he got. Jared’s calloused hand came up to cup the side of Jensen’s neck, tugging him even closer and deepening the kiss.  In return, Jensen’s hand reached up to Jared’s chest, roaming the toned body beneath.

They broke apart panting softly, acutely aware of the half dozen parents that were staring at them in a mixture of shock and disapproval. Jensen looked over at Lauren, her mouth hanging slightly open in indignation as her hands hung limply by her side. The bright plastic grin from before was wiped off her face and Jensen brushed his thumb possessively against the side of Jared’s neck, just in case she hadn’t gotten the memo yet.

“You are aware that we’re ruining the kid’s childhood?” Jared asked in an amused tone.

Kelly was still in his booster seat and attacking his coloring book with an orange crayon, blissfully oblivious to the show his parents had just pulled off.

Out of all the things that could ruin Kelly’s childhood like the swearing, the guns, their criminal track record, a kiss was the least of their problems right now.

Jensen smiled. “I reckon he’ll turn out alright.”

 

 

Jared had just arrived at work, sipping on a steaming hot espresso, when his phone started chirping. He looked at the name on the screen and opened the file that Katie had sent him. It was a picture, probably another one of these selfies she spammed them with every day.

Jared opened it and blinked at it for a second in confusion, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Then his veins ran cold with ice, blood draining from his face as he realized what he was looking at; what had happened. The cup of coffee slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor with a loud splash, hot liquid burning his skin and spilling everywhere.

 _God, no._                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings* for bad language, graphic descriptions of violence, death threats, blood & injuries.

 

 

 **Open Highway  
** **Chapter 2**

Jared had a switch in his brain that shut itself down when someone hurt his family.

It was frightening, the way it somehow controlled his humanity and turned it off from one second to the next. It was as if some invisible force emptied him from all his emotions until he felt weightless and hollow inside, until every rational thought was driven from his mind.

The real scary thing was, when that switch went down, another turned on. Rage and anger took control and overrode all common sense, filling the void that was left when empathy fled the playing field.

When Jared opened his phone and saw the picture of Katie on the ground, a halo of blood spattered across the cement, a dark coldness seeped into his veins, his heart shutting down with a finality like the lid of a closing coffin.

He dialed Katie’s number.

_“Howdy, Jay. It’s been a while.”_

“Ty,” Jared choked on the name, his throat constricted by a rush of annihilating anger. His nails dug into the phone, hard enough to hurt.  His spiraling mind latched onto one thought in a haze of emotions. “Is she alive?”

Ty chuckled and the cruel sound only fuelled the fire that burned inside of Jared. Every second that passed in silence was like adding gasoline to the fire, his fists clenching and veins pulsing with fury.

“Is. She. Alive?”

 _“Baseball bat,”_ Ty purred into the phone. _“I bet she didn’t feel a fucking thing.”_

The words sent Jared over the edge.

“I will fucking gut you, you motherfucking piece of shit! I swear to god if she’s not in one piece—“

 _“In one piece? You’ve seen the picture, right?”_ Ty interrupted Jared’s outburst with a malicious glee and Jared was sick with anger, ill with it. His mind was racing with images of Katie on that street, broken and mangled… dead.

“What do you want?” Jared seethed, spit flying from his lips. “What the fuck do you want?”

_“I want you to grovel, Jay. I want you to pay for the past fucking four years that you stole from my life and I will start by snuffing every last one of those miserable fuckers you consider your family. Kitty Kat, here? She was just a start-up. Maybe I’ll go after Chris or Gen next. Guess I can skip Steve now that his girl kicked the bucket. The heroine will finish him off just as well.”_

Jared squeezed his eyes shut against the cruel words, the overwhelming sense of nausea that accompanied them. _Steve._ if Katie was really dead, Steve was going to lose his fucking mind. He’d OD on some Mexican black tar from the nearby street corner. And Ty fucking knew it because he knew them, their habits, their darkest secrets, their deepest fears.

 _“Who knows,”_ Ty chuckled and Jared’s blood ran cold with dread. _“Maybe I will take a detour to New Haven. Pay you and Jenny a little visit, introduce myself to that cute little boy of yours.”_

“You can try,” Jared growled, voice colder than anyone had ever heard it before. “It’s gonna be the last motherfucking thing you’ll ever do.”

 _“Touchy subject, huh?”_ Ty mocked with a low chuckle. _“Say hi to Jensen for me. Tell him to come and scrape the bitch’s brains off the ground.”_

The line went dead and the switch in Jared’s mind flipped.

 

 

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, spending the entire morning on the phone?” Will stuck his head out the front door of the garage, eyes narrowed to little slits. “The hell do you think I’m paying you for, you lazy bastard?”

Jared slowly lifted his head, the phone still clenched in his aching palm. He sent Will a look so dark, so full of _threat_ that it made the fat bastard falter in his movements. “Hey Will?”

The guy gave Jared a slightly puzzled look. “What?”

Jared took a couple of measured steps, his boots crunching against the gravel as launched forward. He threw his entire body weight into the punch. He hit the older mechanic’s jaw with such force, that it sent him crashing back against the wall, blood pooling in his mouth.

Watching Will’s knees hit the floor with a satisfying thud, Jared cracked his knuckles and spat on the ground.

“I quit.”

 

 

Jensen was nearing the end of his first lecture when he got the call.

Jared knew better than to call him during work hours unless it was an emergency, so when Jensen’s phone rang for the second time in only one minute, he instinctively knew that something was wrong.

He fabricated some lame-ass excuse, not even trying to make it sound real, before grabbing his phone and rushing out of the classroom.

“Jay?” he picked up, slightly out of breath. Call it a sixth sense or whatever, but he knew it instantly, in the way Jared didn’t say anything in the stretch of seconds passing in strained silence between them. Something terrible must have happened. “Jay? Talk to me.”

_“You need to take the rest of the day off from work.”_

“What?” Jensen asked, his voice pitched high with instant panic. “Why? Are you okay?”

 _“I need you ready in thirty minutes,”_ Jared ordered and there was a hard edge to his voice, a sense of authority that made Jensen shiver. _“Can you do that or not?”_

Jensen bit his lower lip and sent a glance around the hallway. “Just tell me what happened.”

 _“I’ll pick you up,”_ Jared said brusquely, ignoring Jensen’s question. He made to hang up and then seemed to think better of it, hesitating on the other end of the line. _“Jensen?”_

“What?” Jensen’s heart thundered wildly in his chest, fingers sweaty from where they were wrapped around the phone in his hand.

_“Watch your back.”_

 

 

Jensen had had just enough good grace to finish his lecture before he rushed down the hallway and practically knocked down Fuller’s office door in his haste to talk to his boss.

Fuller was sitting in his swivel chair, button eyes instantly lighting up despite the unexpected intrusion. “Jensen. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jensen pulled the door closed behind him, giving them both some privacy. He took a cursory glance around the state of half-organized clutter around him, a heavy mahogany desk with an open MacBook Pro next to a stack of paperwork.

“I’d appreciate it if you could sign me off for the rest of the day, Sir,” Jensen explained, never one to beat around the bush. “I’m not feeling well.”

Fuller gave him a long look, eyeing him from top to bottom like he could somehow assess Jensen’s condition. Jensen crossed his arms in front of his chest almost protectively, shifting nervously under the Dean’s roaming eyes. “I’ve been feeling dizzy all morning and I—“

“Please.” Fuller held up a hand to stop him and Jensen swallowed, wondering if he’d get chewed out for the blatant lie. To his surprise, the older man got up from his chair and walked over to stand right in front of Jensen. “No need to explain. I’ve been waiting for you to say something like that. In fact, you’ve been looking quite pale the entire week.”

Letting out a breath, Jensen gave a shaky nod. He hadn’t even been lying; he really did feel like crap and not just because of Jared’s ominous phone call. He had thrown up in the men’s bathroom after the bike ride that morning and then worried himself sick that he might be pregnant again because that was about the very last thing either of them needed right now.

“Your hands are shaking, too,” Fuller commented and before Jensen knew it, he had settled his beefy fingers on Jensen’s chest and steered him down into one of the leather chairs in front of his work station. His fingers lingered for just a moment too long to be friendly, the heat of his palms leaving an uncomfortable tightness in Jensen’s chest. The simple touch felt intrusive, almost _intimate_ and Jensen shivered. “Let me get you some water.”

“No, that’s fine, I’ll just—“  Jensen made to get up and was shoved back into the seat by Fuller.

“I insist,” the dean of the faculty said, latching onto his lower arm and squeezing it tight enough to send a ripple of hurt up Jensen’s spine. When Jensen looked up, he could see a dark glint in Fuller’s eyes that had him freezing in his chair.

“Stay,” Fuller ordered in a low voice before the self-sufficient smile fell back in place, teeth flashing brightly from behind curled lips. “I can’t very well allow you to leave in the state you are in. Just let me—“

A harsh knock on the door startled them both, Fuller’s head snapping up and his eyes narrowing in what seemed like annoyance.

“I’m in a meeting!” he yelled and the frown on Jensen’s face deepened. This wasn’t exactly a business appointment. Fuller could have easily tended to other people’s needs while Jensen sat there and sipped his water, but for reasons that Jensen didn’t want to think about the dean of the program seemed really pissed about the interruption.”Make an appointment with my secretary and—”

The door was yanked open and Jared stepped in, wearing a stone-cold expression on his face. Jensen got out of his chair, heart racing in his chest. “Jay.”

“Jay?” Fuller muttered in confused, almost irritable expression on his face. Then, realization seemed to dawn on him and the ever-present poker face fell back into place. “That’s right, how could I forget. I assume this is your better half, then?”

Fuller tried to smile, his thin lips twisted into a grimace as he stepped closer and held out a hand in greeting. “I wish we had met under different circumstances, maybe with less of a dramatic entrance.”

Ignoring both Fuller’s words and his offered hand, Jared skipped the introductions and stepped up to Jensen, cupping the side of his face with a rough palm and swiping his thumb against a freckled cheek. “You good?” he whispered, voice raw and breathless and Jensen’s worry skyrocketed.

Swallowing down his growing sense of unease, Jensen couldn’t help but lean into the touch. Their eyes met for a second, just long enough to reassure each other that they were both fine before Jensen nodded and Jared pulled away. “We need to leave.”

Fuller, visibly taken off guard by Jared’s lack of respect, narrowed his eyes at them and stepped in front of the door. “I’m afraid it’s not that easy, gentlemen. Jensen hasn’t signed the necessary leave form, yet. He still needs to—“

“He doesn’t need shit from you,” Jared growled and took a threatening step forward. “This is a family emergency, so why don’t you keep your fucking papers to yourself and let us pass?”

“ _Jared_ ,” Jensen said tersely, pressing a hand against Jared’s chest and pushing between the two men to keep them apart. He sent a warning glare in Jared’s direction and then turned towards the dean with an apologetic look on his face. “I- Mr. Fuller, I’m sorry… Where do I need to sign?”

 

 

“You going to tell me what the _fucking hell_ that was?” Jensen demanded as soon as they had left the university building.

Jared was checking his phone for what seemed like the thousandth time since he’d stormed into Fuller’s office and his shoulders were still drawn up, body coiled tight with nervous tension.

“Hey! I’m fucking talking to you!” Jensen yanked Jared around by the shoulder, forcing him to stop in the middle of the deserted campus. “What the fuck were you thinking, talking to my boss like that?”

Jared looked at him, really looked at him for the first time since he’d come to Yale and Jensen’s stomach dropped.

That look in Jared’s eyes, the tight line of tension in his lips, the vacant look in his usually vibrant eyes… those were all surefire ways to tell that something was wrong.

Jensen wanted to demand an answer, but the words clung to his tongue like tar. Whatever had happened, it had to do with the past- with the _gang._

“Ty got out on good behavior,” Jared said in a rush, eyes flickering away as if he couldn’t bear to look Jensen in the eyes. “He came after Katie.”

“Oh god.” The words fell from Jensen’s lips and he felt sick, a tidal wave of memories rushing back with enough force to _drown_ him, make him sputter and never come up for air again. Black spots were dancing in the corner of his vision and he sucked in a deep breath, trying to process the words. _Katie got attacked. Ty was out of prison. He came after Katie. FUCK!_

“What the hell happened? What do you mean he ‘came after her’? Is she hurt? Is she—“

Jensen was close to hyperventilating, his whole body was shaking, his palms sweaty. He stared pleadingly up at Jared as mind-crushing fear and worry warred in his head.

“They ambushed her,” Jared explained. “Ty called me this morning, sent me a picture.”

“Show me,” Jensen demanded, voice hard and eyes glistening with tears.

“Jensen…” Jared was about to protest, shaking his head in denial, but that only hardened Jensen’s resolve. Without another word, Jensen snatched the phone from Jared’s grasp. He unlocked the screen with shaking fingers and went into Jared’s gallery.

Jensen stared at it for a couple of seconds, unblinking, unable to comprehend what he was looking at. Then reality hit him like a sledge hammer and the next thing he knew, he was bowed over and dry heaving, his body reacting with a vehemence he had never felt before.

There was so much blood. There was blood everywhere and Katie… _Oh god, Katie._

“Jensen.” Jared put his hand on Jensen’s back but Jensen pushed him off, near frantic at the touch, at the prospect of Katie dying. Katie might be dead in some goddamn Boston alleyway because of **_them_ ** \- because Ty was trying to settle his score with them. Jensen was coughing and retching, the image of Katie lying on the ground in a puddle of her own blood forever burned into his mind.

Ty was out there somewhere and Katie might be dead and all of a sudden the ‘normal’ life they’d so desperately fought for was _gone_ ; leaving them with nothing but more death and blood and decay. _It was never going to end. How could he have been naïve enough to think it was ever going to end?_

“Hey, hey, c’mon. Take a breath.” Jared pulled Jensen upright and ran a hand through his hair, holding him close, steadying him while Jensen trembled uncontrollably in his arms, cheeks flushed and lips shaking.

_She wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be dead. No fucking way._

“W-we need t-to call the gang and—”

“First we need to get Kel,” Jared said and Jensen’s eyes widened even further, heart freezing to ice in his chest. For a second all he could see was Kelly’s dimples, his wide smile and curly soft hair. His baby was all alone at school, in the hand of strangers. Strangers who didn’t even know how to shoot a fucking gun or how to hold their own in a fight. How the hell were they supposed to protect the four-year-old from the revenge-seeking, ruthless members of a biker gang?

“Does he know?” Jensen demanded with wide eyes, gritting his teeth against the crushing wave of mind-numbing fear. He grabbed a fistful of Jared’s leather jacket, bunching it up beneath his fingers. “Did he mention Kel? Does he know about our son?”

Jared took a deep breath and looked away. “He knows.”

 

 

“Papaaa!” Kelly screeched and ran towards Jensen with outstretched arms. Jensen barged forward and dropped down to his knees in the hallway of the preschool, catching Kelly around his small waist and swooping him off the ground in a crushing hug. Jensen showered Kelly’s head with kisses, swiping his unruly curls from his face.

“Hey, baby. You okay? You been good for Ms. Cooper?” His voice was wavering and his movements were near frantic with the desperate need to reassure himself that they were okay, that Kelly was safe and sound.

Jared watched the scene unfold from afar, cold steel smooth and reassuring against his callous fingers.

 

 

They locked all the doors and pulled down the blinds of the windows in their house. It felt like straight out of one of Jensen’s bullshit nightmares. Except that it was real this time. Jensen’s hands were shaking so badly, he dropped the keys three times before he managed to jam them into the lock of the front door.

Jared carried Kelly into the living room, setting him down gently on their couch with their fluffiest blanket and his favorite stuffed animal. “Hey, buddy. How about I put on The Lion King for you, huh?”

“Yayyy!” Kelly clapped his pudgy little hands together and Jensen had to look away for a moment to contain himself as he watched Jared brush Kelly’s unruly curls back from his forehead. “Is it my birthday today, daddy?”

Jared shot Jensen a look across the room before he forced himself to smile for their boy’s sake. “No, kiddo. It’s not your birthday. Not for a little while. This is just… your Papa and I need to do some grown-up stuff okay?”

Kelly’s forehead crinkled into a confused little frown. “What stuff?”

“Chopping broccoli,” Jensen supplied without missing a beat and Kelly instantly pulled a grimace at the mere mention of his most-hated vegetable. “Ewww.” The toddler’s face scrunched up in disgust and Jared sent Jensen a look of silent thanks for his quick-wittedness. “I hate broccoli!”

“Well, that’s why you get to sit out here and watch your favorite movie.” Jensen bopped Kelly’s button nose and pulled the four-year-old in for one more hug before he hesitantly disentangled himself and started the DVD. “We’ll be right around the corner, okay?”

Kelly nodded his head vigorously and Jared practically dragged Jensen over to the kitchen, safely out of earshot from their son. He pulled a gun out from underneath his leather jacket, silver and shiny. “Take this. It’s loaded. I’ll go and park the car somewhere else.”

Before Jared could leave, Jensen tangled his fingers in Jared’s leather jacket and held him back, eyes intense in the pale light falling in through the kitchen curtains. “That’s our great plan? Keep the lights off, park the car and what- shoot anyone who comes through the fucking door?”

“You got a better one?” Jared hissed, sending Kelly a brief look to make sure his attention was still on the Disney movie and not on them.

A myriad of emotions warred within Jensen’s heart.

Jared forced the unforgiving steel into his hands, guiding Jensen’s fingers to curl around the trigger and Jensen froze, every muscle of his body filled with denial.

His mind flashed with a million thoughts and memories. The way Lucian had grinned down at him, the scent of his own burnt flesh hitting his nose as Lucian had pressed the tip of his cigarette into his skin, the way that gun had weighed heavy in his hands as Jared looked at him with tears in his eyes. _‘It’s okay… just close your eyes, alright? Whatever happens, it's not your fault.´_

“Fucking take it,” Jared growled, his tone harsh enough to cause Jensen to flinch.

“Jay, I—”

“No, you fucking listen to me.” Jared grabbed a handful of Jensen’s shirt and backed him up against the wall, their bodies impossibly close, their hearts wildly beating as one. “I’m gonna need you to pull yourself together, Jensen. You can do that. I _know_ you fucking can.”

Jensen shook his head, panic choking him. He had sworn that he wasn’t going down that road again, that he was never going to touch a gun again with the intention to shoot a flesh-and-blood person.

“We’ve prepared for this,” Jared hissed and Jensen shook his head in denial, tears in his eyes, even though he had known all along- right from the first time Jared had driven them out into the woods what their so-called training sessions had been for. They had both prided themselves in the life they had established for Kelly- in the picket-fence lifestyle, their respectable jobs and small group of friends. But deep down inside they had known that they couldn’t allow themselves to become rusty.

They couldn’t allow themselves to get vulnerable.

 

 

_“You sure you’re up for this?” Jared asked as he shrugged off his leather jacket. They stood across from each other, maybe two or three feet apart._

_Jensen took boxing classes twice a week and he was getting better at it, but Jared had always been better at sparring than him, he had always been quicker in his moves, more precise in his attacks. Which was the reason why they were out here doing this. Because the people they were up against were quicker than Jensen, too. More practiced. And they wouldn’t hold back. They would come bursting through their front door and put a bullet between Jared’s eyes without a second’s hesitation. They’d bolt up the stairs to where Kelly was sleeping, kick down the doors with their guns blazing and— Jensen shuddered, keeping himself from taking his train of thoughts any further._

_“Hey.” Jared’s voice startled Jensen out of his thoughts and it wasn’t until then that he noticed how hard he was shaking, shoulders quivering slightly in the cold evening air. “We shouldn’t do this. You’re still shaken from your last nightmare and—“_

_“And nothing,” Jensen bit out, shaking his head in denial. “We can’t_ **_not_ ** _do this.”_

_If things ever got bad again, Jensen wanted to be able to defend himself. He needed to be able to protect their son._

_“Alright, fine,” Jared said in a low voice. “But if I feel like you’re not on top of your game—“_

_“I don’t need you to hold back,” Jensen returned heatedly._

_He knew Jared was going to end the fight the second he had the chance and Jensen wasn’t going to go easy on him either, neither of them willing to lose._

_Years of practice had them both dressed up and ready in less than two minutes._

_Jared laid out the rules. “No head shots or spin kicks.”_

_“Nothing that leaves bruises,” Jensen added. They couldn’t afford for anyone to notice that they were doing this. The last goddamn thing they needed was a nosy neighbor breathing down their necks or an overbearing teacher who saw Jensen’s bruises and misinterpreted them for physical abuse._

_After the first time they’d done this, Jared had refused to spar with Jensen for a whole month, the blue and reddish bruises glaring back from Jensen’s freckled skin like silent accusations._

_Over the years they had eventually gotten better at controlling their moves and by now they knew each other well enough as sparring partners to avoid any serious damage._

_Jared was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, clenching and unclenching his fists before bringing them up to his face. He may be reckless, but he wasn’t stupid enough to keep his hands down in a battle; knew better than to let his guard slip and give Jensen an opening._

_It was easy to see the difference between them, even when they hadn’t fully started._

_Jensen’s stance was light, but the perfect picture of a proper boxing posture, arms and legs apart like he’d taken exact measurements because he always took a mathematical approach to everything, even to something as barbaric as a fist fight._

_Jared was the exact opposite, his posture barely qualifying for a proper fighting stance. His body was too lax, his stance not balanced enough, but his gaze was lethal and Jensen knew how quick he was- never having expected his extreme speed the first time they’d sparred together after Jared’s cage fighting time in Mexico._

_Jared was hot-headed and quick-tempered, which was why he was also the first one to act, sliding to the side and then lashing forward with his fist in a swift frontal attack. Jensen jumped back and then darted forward with a growl, landing a quick blow to Jared’s chest and sending him stumbling back. He tried to follow his first attack with a second, prepping a kick to Jared’s shin but instead of dodging, Jared blocked it with his right hand._

_“That all you fucking got?” he smirked, not even breaking a sweat._

_“Shut up.” Jensen charged forward once more and Jared bent forward, wrapping an arm around the younger man’s thigh and flipping Jensen over his shoulder. Jensen landed flat on his back, all the breath leaving his lungs in a whoosh as he grunted in pain. Jared made to pin Jensen down, but then Jensen swung his leg up and caught his shoulder with his foot. With a hard shove, he sent Jared reeling backwards. It gave him enough time to catch his breath and get back up onto his knees._

_Jared recovered quickly and darted forward to launch another attack, but Jensen’s foot shot out and hooked around the back of Jared’s leg, tripping Jared and sending him toppling to the ground. Jensen tried to hold him down, but Jared was stronger than him and flipped their positions, rolling on top of Jensen and pinning him down with his body weight. “Thought it was gonna be that easy?”_

_Jensen’s victorious smile disappeared, replaced by discomfort and panic as he began squirming beneath Jared’s body, completely unable to move. “Get off of me.”_

_“Why? You think they would if they had the chance? You think they’d fucking stop here?” Jared growled, the fingers of his one hand clamped down hard on Jensen’s wrists while he used the other to ghost over Jensen’s stomach, over the trembling muscle there._

_“Stop it,” Jensen panted out, arching his back in a desperate attempt to free himself.  Jared studied Jensen’s face, peering deep into his eyes and stilled his movements when he saw the honest-to-god terror reflected in those emerald pools._

_With how close they were, with how much of their bodies were pressed up close together, there was no way Jared couldn’t notice the tremor coursing through Jensen’s body or the glassy hue of fear his eyes._

_Jared shifted his weight, easing off of Jensen and rolling to his feet. He let out a long exhale, giving Jensen some time to catch his breath before he held out a hand to the younger man._

_Jensen was a little shaky on his legs, heart thundering away impossibly fast in his chest. He looked at Jared through a haze of barely contained emotion, cheeks flushed from exertion and something else, shame or guilt or a mixture of both, Jared couldn’t be sure._

_“You hesitate that long with someone else and you’re dead,” Jared commented, keeping his voice carefully neutral, no flicker of accusation or heat in his voice. He knew how hard this was on Jensen, how difficult it was for him and he was willing to take as much time as necessary to get them where they needed to be._

_“Again,” Jared instructed, taking up his stance, feet wide and shoulders broad._

_Jensen took a deep, cleansing breath and readied himself._

 

__

 

“Are you fucking listening to me? Jensen!”

At the sharpness of Jared’s tone, Jensen started, blinking rapidly to clear the memories from his spinning mind. He felt a bit dizzy as he came back to the present, to the frantic look on Jared’s face and the way his boyfriend’s palm was squeezing his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Jensen opened his mouth in an answer when the ringing of a phone startled them both.

Jared was the first to recover. He yanked his cell phone from jeans pocket and picked it up, pressing the speaker button. “Chris. Tell me you found her.”

“Is she okay?” Jensen blurted out, dragging Jared’s hand with the phone closer as if that would somehow close the distance between them. “Chris. Did you find her? Is she alive?”

“Answer us!” Jared hissed into the receiver and only then did they hear a small, shuddering breath on the other end.

_"She’s fine. They roughed her up some but she put up one hell of a fight. She got away, man. The picture he sent you was taken before she made a run for it.”_

“Oh god, thank god.” Jensen squeezed his eyes shut against a wave of crushing relief, the sound of his frantic heartbeat thundering through his entire body. He pressed the palms of his hands against his closed eyes, focusing on the task of breathing, _in and out, slow, steady, get a fucking grip, Jensen… she’s okay, she’s alright._

Jared’s hand dropped to the base of Jensen’s neck, squeezing tightly. “Can we…” his voice was shaky. “Is she there?”

The words had Jensen straightening up again and practically yanking the phone from Jared’s grasp. “Get her on the phone, Chris.”

 _“Hold on.”_ There was a rustle on the other end as the phone was handed over.

_“Hi, stranger.”_

At the sound of Katie’s voice, the dam inside of Jensen broke and he drove a hand through his grown-out, dirty blond hair, clenching the strands in a fist. He let out a strangled sob, clenching the phone tight enough to turn his knuckles white from lack of blood supply.

Jensen hadn’t felt relief like that since the day he pulled that trigger in the warehouse and heard the hollow click of an empty chamber.

“Don’t you EVER fucking do that again. What the fucking hell, Katie? We thought you were dead! Why didn’t you call us?”

 _“I’m sorry,”_ Katie rasped out. _“They smashed my phone.”_

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” Jensen demanded, wiping distractedly at the wayward tears on his cheeks. “Did you go to the hospital?”

Before Katie got a chance to respond, Jared retrieved the phone from Jensen’s fingers and took control of the conversation. “Katie?”

 _“Hi, big brother,”_ Katie let out in a soft, affectionate tone and Jared squeezed his eyes closed, cheek muscles twitching as he clenched his jaw against a wave of emotion.

“Y’alright?”

_“Yeah. Just a couple of bruises. They throw punches like a bunch of high school girls.”_

Jared let out a wry chuckle at that, tears stinging his eyes. “We’re on our way, okay?”

_“What? Jay, no . It’s not even that bad, alright? You guys have a life and you can’t just—“_

“We’re coming.” Jared exchanged a look of wordless understanding with Jensen. There was no fucking way they were going to spend the night in New Haven after what had just happened. “Try to get some rest, alright?”

 _“Okay, thanks, Jay.”_ Katie sighed, knowing any further protest was useless. _“I love you guys.”_

Jared swallowed thickly, mouth twisting slightly at the words. They had come so close to losing _this_ , to never hearing her voice again.

 _“Jay.”_ A gruff voice replaced Katie’s much softer one on the other end of the line.

“Chris, listen to me,” Jared said, voice deathly calm; exactly what Chris needed in this moment- someone to take the lead and call the shots. “Ty said he was going to come after you next. I don’t know if it was an empty threat or not, but you guys need to keep your fucking head in the game, alright? Stick together, keep your guns ready, check your cars before starting them.”

Katie might have survived the attack, but their situation was still the same as before, the ambush had only been strike one in a game of warfare that was likely to end in blood and tears.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

 

 

“Uncle Chris!!!” Kelly yelled excitedly as he wriggled his way out of Jensen’s grasp and started running, little boots scrunching loudly against the pebbled driveway.

Jensen’s heart jumped a little in panic when Kelly yanked himself free and started running; he hadn’t really let go of their son since they had gotten him from pre-school that day, too afraid of what might happen if he let their baby out of his sight.

It was only when Chris picked their son up with a soft laugh and started whirling him through the air that Jensen relaxed again, knowing Chris would do anything to protect their son.

Steve was hovering a step behind Chris and he looked like he’d been through hell, eyes red rimmed and vibrant with the kind of burning rage that only ever led to trouble. One of his arms was wrapped around Katie from where she was leaning against his chest.

Jensen dropped his duffle to the dirty pathway and started running. Katie let go of Steve just in time for Jensen to yank her into a soul-crushing hug.

“I was so fucking afraid,” Jensen whispered. “When I saw that fucking picture I thought…”

“It’s okay,” Katie reassured him with a sniff and a tight little nod of her head. She reluctantly pulled out of Jensen’s hold and pressed a kiss to his tear-slick cheek. “I’m okay. Promise.”

Next to them, Jared grabbed Steve by the arm and pulled him in for a tight embrace, both of their eyes squeezed shut as they clung onto each other tightly. No words were exchanged between them at all.

“Your beard is itchy, uncle Chris,” Kelly’s voice tore through the tension-filled air with a giggle as Chris pressed kisses all over the boy’s forehead and cheeks, making him laugh and kick out his legs in glee. “It tickles!”

“He’s grown so much,” Katie let out in a rush of emotions as she withdrew from Jensen’s hold and turned towards Jared. “He looks just like you,” she whispered into Jared’s ear before burying her face in the taller man’s neck.

“You guys are fucking breaking my heart.” A smooth voice caused them all to look up at Genevieve standing in the doorway of the garage. She took a swig of the flask she held and chased it down with a drag of her cigarette. “You gonna continue this heartbreaking reunion inside where it’s safe or you waiting for someone to gun you down in broad daylight?”

Jensen stilled at the words. For one second he had let himself bask in the happiness of being with their friends without thinking about why they were here in the first place.

“Let’s go,” Steve said, voice gruff with determination.

And just like that, the moment was broken.

 

 

“Hey, man,” Chase greeted Jensen cordially, a small but genuine smile on his lips as he pulled Jensen in a half-sided hug and slapped his shoulder. Jensen found himself smiling back despite the oppressiveness of their situation. “Chase. Good to see you.”

After everything that had happened between them, Jensen had never thought he would say those words to Chase and actually mean them, but he did. He had missed their friends dearly, had missed the scent of motor oil and varnish that clung to the old brick walls of the garage, had missed Steve’s singing and Katie’s laughter and Gen’s sarcasm. Being back, despite knowing what was at stake, felt right on so many levels. It felt like coming home.

“Looking good, college boy,” Chase teased in an effort to lighten the somber mood. “Put on a bit of weight, huh? It suits you. You were always too scrawny for your own good.”

Jensen smiled. “Only you would know how to turn a compliment into something offensive.”

“It’s one of my manifold talents.” Chase winked at him and then sat down at the large table, where the rest of the gang had settled with equally grim looks on their faces.

“You want some coffee, Jen?” Sandy asked in a soft tone, brushing a hand over Jensen’s upper arm to get his attention. She threw a cursory glance towards where Elizabeth and Kelly were playing on the ground, Kelly making ‘roaring’-noises as he stomped his toy dinosaurs all over Sandy’s coffee table.

“Uncle Chris, look! Look! It’s a stac-stachosaurus!” Kelly’s eyes were alight with joy as they played, completely lost in his own little world, oblivious to the fact that there was half a dozen loaded guns in the room. Jensen turned his gaze away. For once he didn’t correct his son’s fumbled attempt to say ‘Styracosaurus’ and just focused on not losing his shit all over Sandy’s kitchen table.

“I see it, buddy,” Chris called out absent-mindedly and fondly shook his head. Then he added in a lower voice, “So the dinosaur phase still hasn’t worn off, huh?”

“He takes those damn toys _everywhere_ ,” Jared said with a small smile. “He goes to sleep with them.”

Jensen didn’t say anything. He couldn’t just sit here and make small talk when Ty was out there, planning to kill them, one by fucking one.

“Jensen, hey.” Sandy’s voice startled him. He stared up at the worried expression on her face and saw her hovering close with a half-finished pot of steaming coffee in her hand. “You want some?”

Jensen shook his head, the mere thought of drinking anything had his stomach in knots. “I’m good, thanks.”

Jared’s eyes were boring into him from across the table, but Jensen didn’t look up to meet his gaze. Instead he turned his attention onto Katie. She looked terrible. Her left eye socket was bruised and swollen, her lip split in several places and her whole posture was guarded.

“You get those ribs checked out?” Jensen asked because he had seen enough people with broken and cracked ribs to be able to tell the difference.

Katie bit her lower lip and Jensen sighed, getting up from his seat to crouch down beside her. “Lift your shirt up,” he instructed quietly.

Katie hesitated for a moment too long and Jensen decided to take matters into his own hands, carefully easing the tight black fabric up above her navel.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the full extent of the damage there and from the way Steve’s fist hit the table with a loud smash, Jensen assumed the rest of the gang had gotten a good look at the blossoming, boot-shaped bruises marking up her middle, too.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Steve ground out, barely able to restrain himself. He got up from the table and started pacing. “I’m gonna fucking kill that motherfucker.”

Jensen shot a look across the room and then cursed when he saw that their son’s attention was focused on them, his eyes wide with shock at Steve’s swearing.

“Get a grip, man,” Chris growled in disapproval. “There’s kids in the room.”

“It’s okay. I got him,” Sandy promptly said and Jensen sent her a grateful look when she whisked the kids away, probably to get them ready for bed. It was starting to get late and despite the way Jensen’s heart clenched in his chest at Kelly being out of his sight, he couldn’t deny the sliver of relief at having his son out of earshot for the conversation they were going to have.

“Does that hurt?” Jensen probed Katie’s ribs with expert fingers, having gone through the motions a hundred times with random strangers at the clinic.

Katie gasped and sucked in a breath at one particular press of fingers and Jensen instantly eased off of her with wince of empathy. “Two are broken from what I can tell. Another one’s possible cracked, but it’s hard to say for sure without an x-ray. I’ll wrap them for now, put some ice on it to deal with the swelling. I think we got Vicodin in our duffle.”

“No painkillers,” Katie said suddenly.

Jensen frowned up at her from where he was crouched down. “Why not?”

“I don’t like them.” Katie shrugged, looking tired and so damn exhausted.

“Alright,” Jensen agreed in a gentle tone and busied himself wrapping her ribs with the gauze that Chad had dropped off at the table. “You gonna tell us what happened?”

Katie licked her cracked lips and reached out to entangle her fingers with Steve’s. “What do you wanna know?”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning,” Jared suggested.

“I left Steve’s place in the middle of the night,” Katie started and then snorted softly, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe her own stupidity. “I couldn’t sleep and I thought... that’s just it. I _wasn’t_ thinking. I didn’t even have my gun on me. I was _so stupid_.”

 

 

_“What I want?” He took a step forward and lifted the bat to the side of her head, pushing her brightly colored hair out of the way. Katie pressed her lips together and forced herself to hold still, even when her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of rough wood against the side of her skull. “How about I want the past four years of my life back? Think you can help me with that, Kitty-Kat?”_

_Katie held Ty’s gaze defiantly, a spark of fire in her eyes._

_“What I think,” she said slowly, rolling the words off her tongue. “Is that you can go fuck yourself you piece of fucking shit.”_

_“Well, I guess that settles it,” Ty said and a sick smile crept over his feature. It was the last thing he said before swinging the bat at her with a resounding whoosh._

_Years of gut instinct and street smarts had Katie’s body reacting before her mind could catch up with the situation. She dropped to her knees and rolled to the side, quickly straightening up again as her attackers rounded in on her._

_Moving quickly, she dodged a punch from one of Ty’s sidekicks and then landed a kick between the guy’s legs, dropping him swiftly as he gasped and curled up into a ball on the ground._

_“Fucking bitch,” Ty ground out and pulled back for another swing with the bat, but panic had pegged Katie’s adrenaline level past the point of what she had thought physically possible. In a move that was absolutely suicidal, Katie abandoned rationality and launched forward, throwing her whole body weight into the attack as she knocked Ty over. Using his shock to her advantage, she growled and slammed her elbow down into the bastard’s ugly mug. Ty grunted out in pain and just when Katie took a second to bask in her victory, one of the other guys grabbed the baseball bat from Ty’s lax fingers and swung it at her again, this time with success._

_The angle was all off and realizing her mistake just a second too late, she had enough good grace to twist her upper body backward. The baseball bat still impacted with the side of her head, but instead of shattering her skull, it merely knocked her to the side with a dull thud and a flash of paralyzing agony._

_Katie curled up, hands clutching at her head and that’s when a boot caught her in the middle, eliciting a strangled cry, more pain flooding her entire nervous system._

_“Fucking kill her,” one of the men spat out. “Gut that fucking bitch and let’s go.”_

_The unmistakable sound of a gun’s safety getting released echoed through Katie’s raging mind and she thought about Steve sleeping soundly, only a couple of feet from where she was curled up on the ground. She thought about what he was going to do if he found her like this, with her brain spattered across his front yard._

_“Not yet,” Ty said, sounding slightly out of breath from her earlier attack. Good. Fucker should have known that Katie wasn’t going to go down without a fight. “Take a picture first, let’s show Jay what he’s missing out on.”_

_Ty took his phone out and took a step closer, crouching down and twisting his fingers in Katie’s blood smeared hair before roughly yanking her head back. “Say cheese,” Ty smirked and Katie gathered every bit of residual will power in herself to spit into the slimy fucker’s face. Ty pulled back with a grimace and wiped at the glob of blood and spittle with the back of his hand._

_“You know,” Ty growled. “I was gonna make this quick, but now-” he grinned and looked up at his men, running his meaty fingers down her middle and taking a second to palm her breast with a sly grin. “We might as well take our time, send Steve a little video to remember you by.” He leaned down to sneer into her face. “I bet he’d fucking love that.”_

_And those were the words that made her snap. With a strength she didn’t think she still possessed after the beating she’d taken, Katie arched up and slammed her forehead against Ty’s- head-butting him hard enough to send him into a backward sprawl._

_One of the guy’s fired off a lousy shot that ricocheted off the pavement and somewhere in the distance, a few dogs started barking and a siren started blaring._

_“Get her!” one of them yelled, but Katie had already started running, her legs carrying her away from Ty and his fucking Goonies as fast as physically possible. As the icy wind whipped through her hair, Katie sent a prayer to a God she had long-stopped believing in._

As Katie finished her story, Jared’s fist was clenched tight enough to hurt, fingernails digging into the callous skin on his palm and drawing blood. His jaw was clenched tightly, every muscle in his face tense with bustling anger.

Katie had her arms wrapped around her middle protectively, eyes never straying far from Steve’s face as if to assess his state of mind and search his expression for reassurance.

Steve had barely made it through Katie’s explanations of Ty groping her without punching a fucking hole through the wall and Jared had been right there with him, ready to blast his entire magazine into one of these scumbags' faces for what they had done to her.

It wasn’t just the thought of Katie getting beaten and abused by those fuckers that had him half-crazed, though. It was the thought that not too long ago, Ty had done the same to Jensen, cornered him in the garage, backed him against a wall, beating him, knocking him unconscious and dragging him into that warehouse.

Lucian might have been the one to torture them, but Ty had gotten them there in the first place. He had been the one to get the stone rolling. The initiator. The _traitor._

“He must have sent you the picture a couple of hours after it happened, trying to lure you here,” Katie admitted in a small voice, looking sheepish as if she was somehow to blame for disrupting Jared and Jensen’s peaceful life in New Haven, for dragging them back into the mess that was their lives.

Jensen cleared his throat and got up from his seat, looking pale as a ghost. “I’ll go and see if Kel’s alright.”

 

 

Jensen was crouched over the toilet bowl, cool sweat pooling on his forehead when the door to the bathroom was gently pushed open. He didn’t know who he expected, but he was still a bit surprised to see Sandy standing in the doorway, practically dwarfed in one of Chad’s old flannels.

She had her hair pulled up in a messy pony and her glasses were perched high on her nose, a look of sorrow and compassion on her face as she stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind her. “Hey, you okay?”

Jensen’s hand was clutched over his middle. He felt like he was being torn apart inside, like some invisible force was slicing through his intestines and not even Sandy’s presence was enough of a distraction to keep a strangled moan from escaping his lips.

“Jen,” Sandy hovered behind him for a second, seemingly unsure on how to approach him, before she crouched down and fanned a palm out against his quivering back. “Are you… do you want me to get Jay?”

“No,” Jensen panted out, breathing heavily through his nose and then lurching forward once more, sweaty fingers slipping against the cool porcelain as his stomach cramped and he heaved up a thin stream of bile. This time the pain was sharper and sitting lower in his abdomen. Jensen’s breathing was sharp, irregular and painful.

Sandy winced in sympathy as a violent shiver wrecked his spine. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Fine,” Jensen shakily replied, before wiping his mouth with a wad of toilet paper and lifting himself up on shaky legs.

“Jensen, what—“

“I said I was fine.” Jensen shook her hands off and steeled his expression into one of nonchalance. “It’s just… it’s a lot to take in, that’s all. I just need some sleep.”

 

 

It was in the middle of the night when Jared slipped into the room that Jensen had taken up for the night with an unreadable expression on his face.

Pale moonlight filtered in through the gap in the drawn curtains of Sandy and Chad’s house, throwing a gleaming ray of light over the two entangled bodies on the bed. Jensen lay with one hand curled around the gun that was stashed beneath his pillow, the barrel pointed towards the doorway, while the fingers of his other hand ran soothingly through Kelly’s hair. The toddler’s arms were tightly wrapped around Jensen’s waist, pulling him into a death-gripping hug. His head of brown curls had made itself comfortable snuggling into Jensen’s chest.

Wind rustled through the treetops outside, the autumn air becoming cool and crisp at night. Jensen had forgotten how cold it got in Boston, how windy. He’d forgotten a lot of things about what it was like to live here.

Jared chucked his shirt before climbing into the bed himself. He settled against the empty side of the mattress and brushed his thumb against Kelly’s flushed cheek in a gesture of affection. “He’ll get used to it if you start letting him sleep in our bed.”

“This isn’t our bed,” Jensen said under his breath, a tight edge to his tone. “And if you honestly thought I was going to let him sleep anywhere else but with us tonight, you don’t know me at all.”

Jared reached out to run a palm up Jensen’s bare shoulder. And where the touch would have usually made Jensen relax and crave _more_ , tonight it sent a shiver down his spine and made him recoil. He withdrew from Jared’s hand and gently untangled himself from Kelly before sitting up. “You’re not going back to New Haven with us, are you?”

Jared froze.

“Don’t lie to me. I can see it in your eyes.”

Jared’s gaze dropped and shifted away as he sat up against the headboard, driving a hand through his untamed hair. “It’s only for a couple of days.”

“Yeah, and then what?” Jensen demanded and got out of bed in an angry huff. “You gonna pay this fucker a visit? Kindly ask him for forgiveness? You really think it’s gonna be that easy?

“Don’t be melodramatic.”

“ _Melodramatic?_ ” Jensen repeated incredulously, voice pitched high in disbelief. “You do remember the time I got tortured by Lucian? The time I got shot and nearly fucking died? Cause I remember every damn second of it and I don’t want a fucking repeat!”

“You don’t think I remember?” Jared got out of the bed as well, crossing the room and taking a stand before Jensen. “You don’t think those memories are haunting me practically every second of my life? You don’t think I’m doing this for you? For _us_?”

“I think you’re doing it for _yourself_ ,” Jensen spat out, shoving at Jared’s chest and sending him stumbling back a few feet. “You try to justify your actions by saying you’re doing it for us, so we can have our life back, but the truth is that everything you do, everything you’ve ever done, you’re doing for yourself cause you’re a selfish prick, Jared!”

Jared was breathing heavily now, his nostrils flaring. The words had hit right home.

They stared each other down in the aftermath of the bombshell Jensen had just dropped and it was only when Kelly let out a soft whimper, fidgeting restlessly in his sleep that Jared grabbed Jensen’s wrist and dragged him out of the room.

“You wanna fucking rethink what you just said in there?” Jared whirled to face him and jabbed a finger into his chest, but Jensen only clenched his teeth in defiance.

“You seriously want for your kid to grow up without a father? You want Kel and I to come visiting you in some maximum security prison? Is that that how you picture him growing up?”

The words had their intended effect and for a moment Jensen could see regret and hurt shimmer through the cracked facade of Jared’s anger.

“Ty’s beef isn’t with Katie or anyone else in the gang.” Jared’s words were hissed out in aggravation, but the pain behind them was more than evident. “His issues are with _me_ and you know as fucking well as I do that this fucking madness isn’t going to end until he’s dead.”

“Or until _you_ are,” Jensen growled back.

Jared huffed out a breath. “I can handle my fucking self. I’m not too much of a suburban housewife yet that I can’t fucking deal with the likes of Ty.”

“And that right there,” Jensen said, shaking his head as a deep, aching loneliness spread in his chest. “That’s the fucking problem. You got self-worth issues because you’re a father now instead of some big-fish biker boss. You think you need to prove your manliness by getting your brains blown out and you don’t give two fucks about what that’s going to do to your kid- or what it’s gonna do to _me_!“ Jensen’s voice broke and he hated himself for showing weakness when he needed to make his words count like he never had.

“You promised me,” Jensen whispered brokenly, eyes brimming as all the anger drained from his bones and nothing but the bitter despair and the mind-numbing, crippling fear of losing Jared took its inevitable place. “You promised me that you were never going to leave me again.”

There was a flicker of hesitation in Jared’s eyes and Jensen almost dared to _hope_ \- but it was shut down as quickly as the rest of Jared’s feelings as he closed himself off entirely, features smoothing out into blankness that meant that Jensen’s words- his plea was lost on him.

“They’re family, Jensen. They need me.”

“Then what do you think we are?” Jensen challenged. “Me and Kelly, what exactly are we to you? You don’t fucking think we need you, too? That Kel needs his father? That I need you like I need fucking _air to breathe_?”

They looked at each other intensely for a second before Jared shook his head.

“You’re overreacting,” he said. “I should have killed that fucker when I had the chance and now I need to clean after my mess. That’s all there fucking is to it. A couple of days and I’ll be back home.”

“Yeah, you know what?” Jensen snapped, bitterness creeping into his tone. “Do what you fucking want. If we’re really worth that little to you—“  

“Don’t you _dare_ finish that sentence, I fucking swear to god,” Jared growled out before yanking Jensen close enough to bring their faces impossibly close together, their lips hovering mere inches apart. “You and Kelly are my reason for _breathing_ . I’d rather rip my own heart out than to watch either of you get hurt. So _yeah_ , I’m going after Ty and I’m not gonna stop before he’s dead. And if that makes me a selfish prick? Then so fucking be it.”

Jensen listened to the words, listened to the raw honesty in what Jared said. He didn’t want for their fight to end like this, didn’t want to leave Boston if it meant leaving Jared behind but he had a kid to think about and Kelly’s safety was his priority.

“Jen,” Jared said softly, cupping the side of Jensen’s face with gruff gentleness. “Whatever the hell you think it is, it’s **_not_ ** goodbye, you understand me?”

Jared looked over his face, studying every freckle, every feature like he was trying to memorize it all.

“There are no goodbyes between us,” Jared whispered intensely.

Jared moved his hands to the back of Jensen’s head and his gaze flicked down to Jensen’s lips. He leaned in closer and stopped, his lips so tantalizingly close that Jensen’s lips started to tingle in anticipation.

“You guys gonna fuck each other now or what?” Chris’ voice rang through the hallway and Jensen felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice over his head. They jumped apart, slightly flustered when they noticed Chris leaning in the doorway of the adjacent guest bedroom. “Cause you both sound like you need it.”

Jared glared daggers at his friend. “Seriously?”

“I’m just sayin’.” Chris held up his hands placatingly. “I could watch Kel for you if you need a couple of minutes to blow off some steam. Chad’s got this old gym in the basement and—”

“Chris?” Jared said in a tight tone, breaking his friend off. “Leave before I hurt you.”

 

 

That night, they took turns watching the front door and guarding the house.

In the two or three hours that Jared and Jensen had together, they lay curled up in bed with Kelly in the middle and tried to calm down from the day’s events. Neither of them apologized for the things they had said during the fight earlier, but then again, apologies weren’t necessary between them.

“I’ll stay,” Jensen said, breaking the silence.

“What?” Jared blinked at him, confused.

“Look, if Ty knows where our kid goes to preschool, he also knows where we’re living. So if he wants to come after us, he’ll do it, no matter if we’re in New Haven or in Boston.”

“Jensen, no.” Jared shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s too fucking dangerous.”

“It’s going to be dangerous one way or another,” Jensen argued. “Whether it’s here or back home doesn’t matter. At least this way, there’s always someone to look out for us, right?”

“You’ll have someone looking out for you back home. I talked to Chris, he’ll stay with you until this thing blows over.”

“Wow,” Jensen scoffed, some of his earlier frustration returning. “And when exactly were you going to tell me about that?”

“Does it matter?” Jared challenged, not backing down and Jensen huffed out a bitter breath, shaking his head a little.

“No you’re right, it doesn’t,” he said. “Cause I’m not going anywhere until this thing is dealt with. No need to send your watchdogs after me.”

“Jensen,” Jared growled, hackles rising again because he always got angry when he was scared- that was his defense mechanism, his default mode when he felt control slipping through his fingers. “This isn’t a joke. Who knows what’ll happen—”

A soft knock on the door had Jared lifting his head off the pillow, voice tapering off into silence as Katie slipped into their room. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked softly, so as not to rouse Kelly from his sleep.

“Actually—” Jared started and was cut off a second later when Katie stepped closer and crawled into their bed.

“Good,” she said and flashed them a grin, snatching one of Jared’s pillows from underneath his head and curling up next to Jensen, one skinny and heavily tattooed arm snaking around his middle. “Steve’s snoring again. I think I tired him out.”

Jensen exchanged a look with Jared, who pulled a grimace when he caught up with the words. “Okay, gross. That’s really not an image I fucking needed about you two.”

“Katie, you have two broken ribs,” Jensen reminded her with a stern frown. “You can’t even move without hurting. How the hell is sex even in the ballpark?”

“Steve can be gentle if he wants,” Katie smirked. “Besides, I almost fucking died. I think I’m entitled to some life-affirming sexy action with my cowboy.”

“Okay, enough,” Jared groaned, running a hand over his tired features. “Don’t ever refer to Steve as your ‘anything’ again when I’m there. Just… don’t, okay?”

“Could you be more of a fucking prude? Like you weren’t about to jump each other’s bones at least a million times when I was around. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

Jensen just chuckled in response, some of the tightness loosening in his chest at the banter. Katie tightened her arms around him and buried her face in the nape of his neck, staring over at Jared from behind Jensen’s shoulder. “Just pretend I’m not here. Whatever dirty stuff you were about to do, don’t even mind me. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“Katie.” Jared warned in a low growl. “Fair warning.”

“Alright fine,” Katie conceded with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. “No touching, I get it. Can you get on with the program now? I think I fucking deserve it after the day I just had.”

Jensen bit his lower lip to hold back a laugh. The look Jared gave her was absolutely priceless. God, he’d missed this- _them_ \- so much.

“Is it really too much to fucking ask to get two minutes of privacy in this place?” Jared asked, voice sharp with annoyance but still low enough to not wake their sleeping son.

Jensen could feel Katie’s smirk against his shoulder blade.

“Yeah it is,” she said. “Welcome home, grouchy.”

 

****

 

Jensen woke up to an empty bed and his first instinct was to panic. The room was too bright, rays of sunlight making their way through the thick curtains.

Jensen sat up way too fast and then regretted his choice. The next second the world started spinning as the usual dizziness hit him a vengeance.

He closed his eyes and waited for the worst of the nausea to subside before he pushed himself up on shaky legs and tore through their duffle in search of a fresh set of clothes. He could hear cutlery clinking in the kitchen below, but it wasn’t until Jensen heard Jared’s and Kelly’s muffled voices that Jensen allowed himself to calm down again.

Following the smell of toast and coffee into the kitchen, Jensen rejoiced at the fact that the scent wasn’t making him sick for the first time in days. He was still only half dressed in his jeans and pulling down his shirt over his chest when he came through the kitchen doorway, gaining the attention of at least half a dozen of people.

“Papa!!” Jensen was greeted by an enthusiastic Kel, who instantly wriggled free from Chris’ grasp and dashed forward. Jensen crouched down and caught the four-year-old around the waist in time to keep him from knocking him over. “Hey, baby. Good morning to you, too!”

“I’m not a baby,” Kelly said and pressed his jam-smeared fingers against Jensen’s cheek in what was probably supposed to be a loving gesture. Jensen grimaced a bit before turning his face just far enough to nip at Kelly’s fingers. The boy shrieked with laughter and Jensen sat him back down before turning towards the rest of the gang.

Jensen spotted Jared watching them from behind the counter, fully dressed and with dark circles beneath his eyes. He had been with them before Jensen fell asleep to the feel of Katie plastered against his back and the sound of Kelly’s even breathing. But judging from the weariness in his features, he must have snuck out sometime during the night, probably to take second watch.

“Hey,” Jared croaked, voice raspy from lack of use. He placed his coffee cup on the counter as he rounded it and before Jensen could even reply, he grabbed Jensen’s hips in a secure grip, pulling him towards his body and gently capturing Jensen’s lips with his own. The kiss was gentle for about two seconds before it turned a little more desperate, almost hungry, Jared’s tongue hot and demanding against his own.

Jensen bit his lips as they broke apart, well aware of the entire gang watching them.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve rolled his eyes at them. “It’s like you two haven’t changed at all. Fighting each other tooth and nail, only to be acting like a couple of horny teenagers the next second.”

“Papa what does horny mean?” Kelly piped up unexpectedly and Jensen felt his cheeks flush at the question. Trust Kelly to pick the most embarrassing words of a sentence to ask about. The fact that the entire gang broke out in laughter didn’t exactly help Jensen’s embarrassment. But thankfully, Jared was a lot more composed than Jensen.

“It’s when something’s got horns,” he said, shooting Steve a glare across the loaded kitchen counter.

“Like a bull?” Kelly piped up with a grin and Jared ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, just like that.”

“C’mon now, finish your cocoa,” Jensen urged the four-year-old on, gently pushing him back towards his high chair at the kitchen table, before he could come up with any more awkward questions. He grabbed a slice of toast and a cup of tea for himself before sitting down on the table next to Genevieve.

“Are we done with the kiddie stuff or should we add a few balloons to the lollipop lane?” Genevieve asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. Jensen couldn’t help but think that her bitterness wasn’t entirely due to Ty making a return.

“Gen,” Chris warned in a low growl.

Katie dropped her bowl of cereal in the sink and jumped off the counter. Where her face had looked beaten and abused before, it now looked like she’d been hit by a goddamn train. The bruises had taken on a deep, ugly tone and the swelling contorted her pretty features to a point where they were no longer recognizable. “Shut the fuck up, Genevieve. Can’t we just have this one fucking breakfast together before Jensen leaves again? Is that really too much to ask?”

“Aunt Katie said a bad word!” Elizabeth accused with wide eyes, clasping a small hand over her mouth in feigned shock. Jensen was pretty sure Elle had heard a lot worse coming from Aunt Katie’s lips in the past, but she never failed to point out if one of them had to pay a swear jar. At the rate they were going, she’d have enough saved to fund her own college education. “She said a bad word, Mommy. I heard it!”

“Little traitor.” Katie stuck her tongue out at the five-year-old girl and Jensen winced a little at the sight of Katie’s bruised jaw and split lip. He was going to have to take another look at that later, which reminded him of the news he needed to share.

“I’m not going back to New Haven,” Jensen stated matter-of-factly, sending a brief look into the crowd before settling his gaze on Jared, daring him to say anything against it. “I’ve decided to stay. At least for another couple of days.”

“Jen, are you really sure about this?” Chad asked, sounding skeptical.

“I’m sure,” Jensen affirmed, not leaving any room for discussion. If Sandy and Elizabeth could live in the midst of this fucking horror-show, then so could he. He hadn’t gone through four years of training with Jared for nothing. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but all things considered this is the safest place for me and Kel to be.”

“Jen,” Jared said in a low voice. He gave Jensen a hard stare from across the kitchen, disapproval and worry etched into his features. “A word?”

Jensen got out of his chair and followed Jared outside, mentally preparing himself for the lecture Jared was going to give him. It didn’t matter. Not really. Jensen wasn’t going to change his decision, no matter what arguments Jared brought forth.

Out in the hallway, safely out of earshot from the rest of the gang, Jared took him by the shoulders and held him tight, eyes boring deeply into Jensen. “I have two conditions.”

Jensen jutted out his chin. “I’m listening.”

“One,” Jared held out a finger. “As soon as something goes south or anyone gets hurt, you’re on your way back to New Haven, no arguments or hesitation. And two—” He took a deep breath. “If this starts affecting you in any negative way or form, if your nightmares are getting worse or you start getting panic attacks, then—”

“Jay,” Jensen cut his boyfriend off in a soft tone. He reached out to grasp Jared’s forearm, thumb brushing tenderly over the intricate hour glass tattoo there. “I’m about the farthest thing from ‘fine’ I could ever be. But as long as you’re here…”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Jared replied softly, moving his hands up from Jensen’ shoulders to brush a loose strand of hair out of Jensen’s bottle green eyes. He gently cupped Jensen’s face and leaned down for a slow kiss, feeling the promise spread like fire between their lips.

They broke apart reluctantly and Jensen fingers traced the wolf on Jared’s neck lovingly.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, the guys are all reunited ;) Hope you enjoyed this chapter!! Sorry for the long waiting time. In case any of you have wondered about it, my art was taken down and replaced by placeholders by photobuckt. I'm going to upload the pics for Open Road over the next couple of weeks. Anywayyy... what did you think of the chapter? Let me know! :) Reviews never fail to make me happy. BIG THANK YOU to my beta, kimenem for her amazing help and patience.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings* for graphic violence, bad language, illegal schemings, money laundering.

 

  
**Open Highway**  
**Chapter 3**

The house that Tom and Mike had bought for themselves was unapologetically modern. It stood amidst the manicured lawn as if beamed there by an out-of-space entity, all steel-crafted rectangles and polished glass. When Tom had first shown them the place a couple of years ago, Jensen had eyed the minimalist design and expensive furniture with skepticism, wondering how they kept the damn place so tidy all the time. There was no clutter of shoes or balled up clothes, no disarray of any kind. They had an indoor pool, three guest rooms and a kitchen that was large enough for an army of chefs even though neither of them knew how to cook. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise, though. Mike had climbed up the corporate ladder fast and Tom wasn’t far behind, already having made a name for himself as a prosecutor. Between the two of them, they had started building a small fortune.  
  
Standing on the veranda in front of Tom’s house, Jensen shivered, one of his hands entangled with Kelly’s little one.  
  
The car ride to Tom’s place had been hellish. Between the stomach cramps and shortage of breath, Jensen had warred between puking his guts out and driving himself to the nearest hospital. In the end, he had done neither and just pushed the gas pedal a little harder.  
  
He could vaguely hear voices coming from inside the house before the door was pulled open, revealing a woman in her late fifties. She had sun-kissed skin and dark hair that was streaked with white strands. When her eyes drifted from Jensen to Kelly, a warm smile lit up her wrinkled face. “Well, hello there. How can I help you two?”  
  
“Morning, Ma’am. We’re here for Tom. Is he in?”  
  
“Do you have an appointment with Mr. Welling?” the lady asked, and Jensen frowned at the formality. Did he need a state invite to talk to his best friend now?  
  
“Uh, no. I’m a family friend. We were just in the area and—”  
  
“Maria, who’s—” Jensen’s eyes widened slightly when Tom appeared in the doorway. The tall man slowed to a halt at the sight of Jensen and Kelly.

“Jen?” he asked in bafflement.  
  
“Hi, Uncle Tommy!” Kelly blurted out before Jensen got a chance to say anything. He flashed Tom a grin and darted forward to wrap his arms around Tom’s Armani-clad leg. “Your house is pretty.”  
  
“Thanks, bud.” Tom ruffled Kelly’s hair, his expression a mixture of shock and yearning. Jensen watched the scene with empathy. He knew that Tom and Mike had been trying for a kid, but so far all it had led to was false hope and disappointment. At some point, Tom had stopped talking about it and Jensen had stopped asking.  
  
“I drawed you a picture,” Kelly handed Tom a dog-eared drawing. “There’s you and uncle Mike and that’s a T-Rex. They’re my favorite ‘cause they’re real big and they have sharp claws and—”  
  
“Kel, slow it down,” Jensen gently chastised. “Let’s give uncle Tom a chance to catch his breath, alright?”  
  
Kelly nodded obediently and Jensen smiled down at him before meeting Tom’s gaze. They stared at each other in silence before Tom cleared his throat and shot his housemaid a fleeting glance. “Maria, I want you to cancel all my appointments for today.”  
  
“But, Sir—”  
  
“That will be all. You can take the rest of the day off,” Tom discharged her.

Maria gave a sullen nod and scurried down the hallway.  
  
“So, it’s been a while, huh?” Jensen scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. These days they were both so busy with work and family that there was barely any time for them to keep in touch. Sure, there were phone calls and messages, but it wasn’t what it used to be. Jensen had missed Tom. Missed their casual conversations; their late-night gossip sessions shared over a tub of Ben and Jerry’s. He had missed his best friend.  
  
“I gotta say, I was expecting a little more enthusiasm,” Jensen said with a nervous smile when the silence between them stretched out too long.  
  
The words seemed to do the trick though, because as soon as Jensen said them, Tom stepped forward to pull him against his chest. For a brief moment Jensen was stiff in Tom’s arms, then he closed his eyes as Tom squeezed him tighter, burying his nose in the small of his friend’s neck. His fingers tangled in Tom’s shirt, both of them tethered to the spot and clinging to each other like the world was about to end.

“You okay?” Tom whispered in Jensen’s ear.  
  
Jensen felt his throat close up on him. “I’m fine,” he lied, for what seemed like the thousandth time that week. It was only when moved back and looked up at Tom’s skeptical expression, at the worried frown on Tom’s forehead that Jensen realized that his best friend could still read him like an open book, even after years apart.

Jensen swallowed past the lump in his throat and looked down at his four-year-old, trying to communicate that he couldn’t speak freely in front of his son.

Tom’s expression softened minutely as he crouched down to be at Kelly’s eye level, seemingly reading Jensen’s thoughts. “Hey, little man, you wanna check out the pool?”

Kelly’s eyes went wide and sparkly with excitement. He threw a pleading look over his shoulder. “Can I, Daddy? Can I, pleeease?”

Jensen gave a soft nod in compliance. “Just don’t go in before I’m there, okay?”

“Yayyy!” Kelly cheered and darted forward, into the house.

Jensen watched him go with a fond smile on his lips before his skin started crawling under Tom’s watchful gaze. Tom was still holding the door open, his piercing blue eyes bored into Jensen. “What’s wrong?”

Just two fucking words and Jensen felt his protective armor crashing down around him. Tom was looking at him like he knew how close Jensen was to losing it, like he could somehow sense that something terrible had happened. And Jensen wanted nothing more than to confess. To speak freely about everything he couldn’t talk about with Jay and the gang.

“Nothing,” Jensen forced out with a shaky smile.

“Right,” Tom said disbelievingly and let out a sigh. “Come in. I’ll put on some coffee.”

 

 

“Daddy, did you see me jump? Did you see me?” Before Jensen could answer, Kelly dove in the water with a loud splash, cleaving the chlorinated water with slightly uncoordinated strokes until he reached the tiled edge of the pool.

“Good splash, buddy,” Jensen praised then returned his attention to the cup of steaming coffee in front of him. He picked up his spoon and tapped the murky surface, breaking through the crown of milk foam, watching the ripples spread inside the mug.

“What do you want me to say?” Tom asked, his gaze fixated on some spot in the distance. His voice was void of emotion, no heat setting his tone on fire, no prejudice or accusation.

Jensen licked his dry bottom lip. He could taste the bitter acidity of the chlorine on his tongue and it made him feel sick.

Somehow Tom’s lack of reaction was worse than a tantrum Jensen had expected. It was the calm before the storm and they both knew it. Tom always grew quiet when he was passed the point of pissed and well on his way to blow a fuse. This was him being livid and Jensen subconsciously readied himself for what was to come.

“Ty knows about Kel,” he said. “He threatened my kid, Tom. What was I supposed to do?”

“How about go to the police?” Tom bit out. “Some mob boss threatens your family and you go to the goddamn police, Jensen. Or have you forgotten what happened the last time you tried to handle things on your own?”

A familiar bitterness overcame Jensen. “We have blood on our hands, Tom. Jay and I could be in prison if it wasn’t for Jeff. It doesn’t exactly make us popular with the cops.”

“What you did was self-defense,” Tom countered heatedly. “They kidnapped and tortured you, Jensen. Do you honestly think, for even one second, that any jury in their right mind, would have found you guilty?”

“And what about Jay?” Jensen demanded. “You think they would have let him go, too? Some low-life thug from the streets with a police record as long as his arm?”

Tom looked as if he wanted to say something, eyes wide, staring vividly across the table. He opened his mouth just to close it again the next second and Jensen knew, deep down, that whatever came next, he wouldn’t like it.

“Don’t you see what you’re doing here?” Tom let out in a raw, pleading whisper, his eyes taking on a sorrowful look. “Jensen, you keep endangering your own life, and now the life of your four-year-old, all for Jared’s bad life choices. Don’t you see what a vicious cycle this is? No matter how hard you try to outrun it, Jared’s past will always catch up with you! For as long as you’re with him, you’ll never have peace.”

“So what are you saying?” Jensen asked incredulously. “That I should leave him?”

Tom looked at him and ran a hand over his mouth. He just shook his head, gaze drifting back to where Kelly was playing with his toy dinosaurs, making ‘roaring’ noises in the water.

When he turned back towards Jensen, his expression was stone-cold sober. “If that’s what it takes.”

The words packed a punch that left Jensen winded. Tom wasn’t talking about him going back to New Haven, he was talking about their entire relationship - about Jensen leaving Jared. For good.

Jensen waited for Tom’s expression to show regret, for him to jump in and apologize for even just suggesting that Jensen should end things with Jay. That such a thing was possible.

Maybe Tom didn’t know him as well as Jensen had always thought.

“Kel, pack your things,” Jensen called out over his shoulder, ignoring his son’s heartfelt protests and gathering his things from the table. “We’re going.”

Tom got up from his chair. “Jensen, I’m only trying to help.”

“Well, you’re not,” Jensen snapped. He didn’t look at Tom while he grabbed Kelly’s clothes and hastily stuffed them into his son’s backpack. The sudden urge to leave was overpowering. They weren’t going to stay long enough for Kelly to get dried off and ready.

Tom got up from his chair and grabbed Jensen by the wrist. “Jensen, listen to me - you almost died the last time, and now you expect me to watch you go through round two? I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Let me go.” Jensen tried to tug his arm free, but Tom held tight.

“Do you really want for your four-year-old to get tangled-up in this mess? For the love of God Jensen, you’re a father. Stop thinking about yourself and start acting like one!”

“Right,” Jensen spat out. “Because you know all about being a _father_.”

Tom let go of Jensen’s wrist as if he’d been burned by the touch, eyes flashing with hurt.

Jensen didn’t allow himself to dwell on what he’d said, on the damage he had just caused. He swallowed down his guilt and turned around, pulling Kelly along. He needed to get away from Tom and the palpable hurt between them. Like yesterday.

“Daddy, why are we leaving?” Kelly whined, still with his swim shorts on and dripping water from head to toe. Jensen just lifted him up into his arms, ignoring Kelly’s drenched curls and slick skin. “Can’t we stay?”

“No today,” Jensen said tightly and made his way to the front door.

Tom didn’t call after him and that was how Jensen knew how much his earlier words had really hurt him. But Jensen didn’t care.

He slammed the door closed on his way out and then collapsed against it with his back, burying his nose in Kelly’s wet curls and squeezing his eyes shut against the sting of tears.

 

 

  
“Fuck me,” Jared muttered under his breath and rounded the Superhawk that had rolled into the garage a couple of days ago. It was a CB77 model, a sportbike genesis for Honda.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he grinned and ran a hand over the tubular steel frame.

“I knew you’d like her,” Chris chuckled. “The way I tossed her around during the test run,” Chris smirked, shaking his head at the memory. “You should have seen it, man. It was beautiful.”

Jared looked up at Chris with a wry smile. “Engine?” he asked.

“305cc parallel twin,” Chris gave back, eliciting an impressed whistle from Jared.

“How’s the battery? Did you put it on a charger?”

“Replaced it,” Chris explained. “Did the same with the gas and the oil filter, but she still won’t give me nothin’.”

Jared examined the flaky surface of rust on the pet-cock valve. He pulled a handful of pennies from his jeans pocket and dropped them in the fuel tank.

“Go get me a bucket of soapy water. Use the dishwashing liquid.”

If anyone else gave Chris an order like that he’d probably tell them to go fuck themselves but since it was Jared, he just walked over to the sink to do what he was told.

Jared filled the tank with water, put the lid on and shook it vigorously. Then he drained the sudsy liquid and repeated the process until the water ran clear. “Jeff taught me that little trick. Knocks the rust loose and shakes it up. Takes some time and elbow grease, but it works.”

“Huh,” Chris said and Jared frowned up at him, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his heavily tattooed hand.

“What?” The taller man asked.

“Nothing," Chris shrugged. "It’s just good to have you back.”

Jared smiled. “Good to be back.”

It was just then, that a soft knock on the open door of the garage had them both turning around to spot Jensen. “Mind if I join you?”

Jared frowned. To an outsider, Jensen would have looked and sounded perfectly normal, but Jared could tell that there was tension in his posture and a dejectedness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Even from fifteen feet away, Jared knew that something was wrong.

“Hey.” Jared wiped his hands on a rag and waved Jensen closer. “Come here, let me show you something.”

Jensen rounded the Superhawk on the truing stand and crouched down next to Jared, their knees almost touching. Jared’s gaze was full of concern as he mouthed ‘You okay?’

Jensen nodded, despite looking anything but. Jared reached down to place a comforting palm on Jensen’s thigh and gave it a squeeze.

“You remember what I told you about carburetors?” Jared asked, changing the topic. He looked at Jensen expectantly and motioned to the fuel inlet.

“Yeah,” Jensen said. “It’s uh… a tube that allows air and fuel into the engine through valves, blending them together in a ratio that suits a wide range of driving conditions.”

“Tell me something, freckles,” Chris teased from across the room, regaining both Jared and Jensen’s attention. “Did you get beat up a lot in school for being such a geek?”

“Did you get beat for being such a prick?” Jensen returned without missing a beat.

Jared smiled at his boyfriend’s quick-wittedness, before returning his focus to the matter at hand. “Almost every vintage bike will have a carburetor. Problem is that these little guys tend to get gummed up with old gas. Most of the time you can get away with a simple carb clean, but sometimes, you need a full rebuild.”

Jensen nodded, quietly absorbing the information.

“Only real way to tell if you need a rebuild is to pull the carbs out and look at all the jets and gaskets,” Jared proceeded to do just that, removing the carbs with a swiftness that came from years of practice. “Now these here,” Jared said, rolling the little metal rounds around in his grease-smeared palm. “They look like they’ve seen some action. Do you see the gaskets? They’ve turned brittle over the years.”

Chris groaned as he realized his mistake. “Are you fucking kidding me? I took three hours cleaning the carbs and now you’re telling me the entire thing needs a rebuild?”

Jared tossed the rug over his shoulder and straightened up. “Rookie mistake, man.”

“Fuck off, Jay,” Chris growled with no real heat in his voice.

“Hey.” Jared held up his hands in feigned innocence. “You asked me for help.”

“Jared.” A third voice suddenly cut in from the side and all three of them looked up to see Chad standing in the doorway with a dark expression on his face. “Just got a call from Rich. He says he knows something and wants to talk to you. We meet him at the parlor in about an hour and a half.”

Chad tossed a set of keys over and Jared caught it mid-air. “You can take the Yamaha.”

“I’ll tell the others,” Chris said and sauntered out of the garage alongside Chad, leaving Jared and Jensen alone.

Jensen waited for a couple of seconds, just long enough for the garage door to close behind Chris and Chad, to clear his throat, fingers picking at a hole in his jeans. “So. This Rich guy, he good or bad news?”

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” Jared wiped the grime from his hands with the wife beater he was wearing and sat down on the small shop seat. “What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?” Jensen replied with a confused look.

“Don’t give me that,” Jared sighed. “Tom gave you shit for what happened, didn’t he?”

Jensen’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he instantly lowered his gaze. Bingo.

“What did he say to you?” Jared demanded, silently fuming at Tom for putting that look of dejected guilt into Jensen’s eyes. He wanted to punch Tom in the face for contributing to the sadness in Jensen’s voice, for giving his boyfriend yet another reason to beat himself up.

“We had a fight,” Jensen admitted with a shrug. “It uh… it wasn’t pretty.”

Jared got up from his seat and leaned against the truing stand next to Jensen, loosely bumping their knees together. He could sense that Jensen wasn’t ready to talk about it so he didn’t push him, knowing that Jensen would come around in his own time. “It’ll be fine, alright? You guys’ll talk and work it all out, just like you always do.”

Jensen let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh that sent goosebumps down Jared’s skin.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling away from Jared and grabbing the jacket he’d dropped over the hood of a nearby car earlier. “I’m not so sure.”

Jared frowned but before he could question the statement, Jensen made a bee-line for the door. “Let’s just get this over with, alright?”

Sensing the desperation behind Jensen’s request, the unspoken plea to drop the subject, Jared reluctantly pocketed the keys to Chad’s bike. He caught up with Jensen in the doorway and slipped an arm around his waist, holding him close and peering down into his eyes.

“Not so fast,” he said quickly, blocking Jensen’s path. “You don’t wanna talk about it, fine. But you’re not coming along when your head’s not in the fucking game.”

“Yeah?” Jensen challenged, jutting out his chin. “And who’ll keep me from it?”

Jared rose to the bait, knowing that Jensen was only being this way because he was hurt and insecure and he needed a release for all the shit he kept bottled up inside his heart.

“I will,” Jared said, knowing it would piss Jensen off even more. “That’s a fucking promise.”

Predictably, Jensen’s patience snapped at that. With a growl, he shoved Jared’s chest, pushing him off and sending him stumbling back a few steps, his face twisted up into a grimace. He pointed a finger at Jared in warning. “You can’t control what I do or don’t do. Whether I come along or not is my decision, Jay! Just like it was my decision to climb onto that damn bike with you five years ago and just like it was my decision to stay with you ever since! So the only promise that I will accept from you right now is the one that says that this whole fucked-up mess won’t end with one of us dead, you goddamn asshole! How about you promise me that and keep your fucking word for a change?”

Jensen ended his rant with an audible tremble in his voice and tears in his eyes and Jared just watched him lose his shit, just like he had known Jensen would if provoked.

“You done?” Jared asked gruffly, one arm propped against the doorway.

Jensen was breathing heavily, his whole body vibrating with pent-up energy and Jared knew that this had been coming a long time, ever since Jared had gotten him from college and told him about Katie. Jensen was a good actor, he was everybody’s bastion of calm until he suddenly wasn’t- until his feelings caught up with him and dragged him under. And right now? He was at his breaking point.

“Jen,” Jared called him by his nickname and stepped close, cupping Jensen’s face. His fingers barely touched Jensen’s skin before he was pushed off again.

“Get off me,” Jensen hissed out, eyes wide and panicked.

“Jen, hey—” Jared softened his voice, taking another step forward and when a sudden, forceful shove to the chest caught him off guard and caused him to stumble. Losing his balance, Jared let out a surprised grunt when his shoulder hit the wall. There was a bit of pain, but mostly Jared felt shocked as he blinked his eyes back open to stare into the equally shocked expression on Jensen’s face. There was a second of stunned silence between them, before Jensen’s cheeks went pale and eyes widened in shock. “Shit. Shit, Jared, I didn’t—” he cursed brokenly, driving a hand through his hair and then nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to get away, to make a run for it.

Lightening fast, Jared’s arm shot out to grab Jensen’s shirt. He yanked him around so they were facing each other, forcing Jensen to look him in the eyes.

“Calm down,” Jared said, his tone deep and strong as he stared Jensen down, fighting his feeble attempts to get free. Jensen’s shoulders slumped as the fight slowly drained from him, leaving him shaky and exhausted, his forehead falling down against Jared’s shoulder as his shoulders started shaking. “Okay, it’s okay. You're alright.”

They stayed like that for a moment, with Jared’s arms strong and sure around his waist and Jensen’s shoulders shaking as he clutched at Jared’s back.

“I promise,” Jared whispered eventually, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping like hell that Jensen still trusted him enough to believe him. “I _promise_ you that this won’t end in blood."

He had broken his promises to Jensen before.

But this one, he fully intended to keep.

 

 

Jared pulled up in front of a tattoo parlor and balanced the bike on its kickstand. He slipped off the seat and reached back to make sure his gun was still safely stashed away beneath his leather jacket.

After their fight, Jensen had taken a shower and walked out of the bathroom with determination written all over his face, fully dressed and ready to go. Jared had stared at him long and hard before hopping onto the Yamaha and waiting for Jensen to join him.

There was still stuff that Jensen wasn’t telling him, but Jared could tell that he wasn’t as tense as before, not as distracted by his feelings. Like so many times before, their argument had cleaned the air between them, making things easier, allowing them to breathe again.

Or at least, that was what he had thought until he saw the expression on Jensen’s face when he got off the bike and turned to look at him. Shit.

“You gonna hurl?” he asked Jensen, who was pale as a ghost in the aftermath of Jared’s reckless driving. He didn’t know whether Jensen simply wasn’t used to riding with him anymore or whether it was due to his earlier break-down, but the bloodless tone of Jensen’s skin and the way he closed his eyes and swallowed repeatedly kicked his protective instincts into high gear. “Hey, look at me. You feelin’ sick?”

“I’m fine,” Jensen forced out and slipped off the bike as well. For a moment, he looked like he was about to keel over, so Jared’s hands shot out to steady him, his worry skyrocketing at the slow drag and roll of Jensen’s pupils.

“Yeah, you look fan-freaking-tastic,” Jared mocked him.

Jensen swatted Jared’s hands away, visibly annoyed. “I said I was fine. Now back off.”

Okay, still pissed then.

Jared clicked his tongue and raised his palms in mock surrender. “Fine, have it your way.”

He turned back toward the tattoo parlor and took the lead, deftly ignoring the large sign that read ‘CLOSED’ in flashy neon letters as he walked inside the parlor.

A bell chimed when they entered the store and Jared’s eyes instantly wandered around, the smell of fresh paint filling his nose. The shiny hardwood floor beneath his shoes was polished and the spacious leather chairs at the back of the parlor looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. The studio looked nothing like Jared remembered it.

There was a small reception desk with an open MacBook and a dog-eared portfolio filled with photographs of finished works.

“We’re closed.” A girl stuck her head through the doorway of the adjacent room. She walked up to them, eyeing them from behind nerdy glasses with big, neon green frames. “And as much as I’d love to get my hands on you guys, the sign reads ‘CLOSED’ which means you either can’t read or you’re out for trouble.”

Jared gave the girl a hard look. “You know who I am?”

“You could be the fucking Dalai Lama for all I care,” the girl returned cockily. “Still wouldn’t open the store for you.”

Jared smiled and exchanged a brief look with Chad. He pulled down the hem of his shirt until the feathered head of his Phoenix peaked out from beneath the fabric. Bright flames were rising all around its head and above the bird’s head, the name of Jared’s gang ranked in bold letters on his chiseled chest, leaving no doubt as to who he was and where his loyalties lay.

The girl’s eyes widened at the six feet and four inches of solid tattooed fucking muscle in front of her and Jared didn’t think he imagined the flicker of desire in her eyes before she seemed to gather her bearings again. “Don’t flaunt that shit around in here, alright?” She shot a nervous glance around the parlor before yelling over her shoulder. “Rich?”

“What?” A male voice echoed back out from the back of the parlor.

“A guy's asking for you.” she gave Jared an appraising look and Jared smirked a bit when he felt Jensen growing tense beside him. One glance to the side confirmed his suspicion, Jensen’s face was damn near blotchy with badly concealed annoyance, his fingers curled into fists as his jaw muscle ticked and if looks could have killed, Jared had no doubt that she’d die a slow, bloody death right then and there. “Ken Doll here’s got some pretty impressive art work on his chest that's got your name written all over it."

There was a crash and a loud curse from somewhere out of their sight and then Rich was sticking his head through the beaded curtain that separated the reception from the actual studio.

“Fuck, Ava, I told you to keep the damn shop close—” the words trailed off into stunned silence when Rich spotted Jared and the others behind the counter. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered as if he couldn’t quite trust his eyes.

Jared walked up to the stranger and greeted him with a strong clap to his neck.

“Good to see you, man. It’s been a long time.”

 

 

The room Rich led them to was much smaller than the first and the walls were painted a bright red. There were a few framed records lining the walls and the smell of antiseptic was reminiscent of the one in a hospital. The only thing missing, really, was the telltale buzz of a tattoo gun but Jensen supposed that was due to the fact that the parlor was ‘CLOSED’ as the bitch at the reception had so graciously explained to them.

It wasn’t like Jared never got hit on. Hell, the guy was attracting women and men alike wherever he went. But this was different. This was Jared’s hood, his territory, his playground. He wasn’t just a mechanic with a pretty face and a god-like body. He wasn’t just Kelly’s father. In South Boston, Jared was a fucking legend. Someone to fear and respect. Someone to desire.

Jensen had seen it in the girl’s eyes the second she realized who she had in front of her.

And now he could see that very same respect, the same awe reflected in Rich’s eyes.

The guy sat down on the leather chair in the middle of the room and crossed his arms in front of his chest. There wasn’t an inch of tattoo-less skin on the guy’s body.

“So I assume that’s the kid you left Boston for?”

“Jen,” Jared jerked a thumb towards the tattoo artist “This is Rich, most talented fucker with a coil in North America. He’s the best in the business. Rich,” he inclined his head towards Jensen. “That’s the father of my child and I strongly suggest you never call him a kid again.”

Rich glanced from Jared to Jensen, his expression suddenly wary and Jensen wasn’t sure whether it was because he was afraid of getting into trouble with Jared or because he was afraid of whatever Jensen might do to him if he tried out any other depreciating nicknames.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jensen,” he introduced himself. When he offered his hand up in greeting, Jensen caught sight of a black phoenix on the inside of Rich’s wrist and realization washed through him. Rich was one of them. Or he used to be, once upon a time.

“I heard,” Richard said, shaking his hand. “Kinda hard to forget the name of the guy that got Jared Padalecki to leave the business.”

“Yeah, well. Guess it didn’t take.” Jensen couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped into his tone. He was beginning to realize that there was no such thing as ‘leaving the business’.

“Guess not,” Rich said with an odd undertone in his voice. He got a weird faraway look in his eyes as if lost in a memory and just when Jensen was about to say something, Jared cleared his throat, bringing Rich back to the present.

“You said you wanted to talk to me,” Jared reminded him.

Rich nodded and looked down at his hands, inspecting them from side to side, like they held all the goddamn answers in the world. “When word hit the street that the Legion had disappeared, things got pretty quiet for a while. We all knew it wouldn’t take long before somebody stirred up trouble. Just didn’t think that someone would be Ty fucking Olsson.”

“I take it he came by the parlor?” Jared asked.

“That’s one word for it,” Rich huffed out bitterly. “About four months ago, they broke into the studio and smashed the whole damn fucking place. I’m talking broken windows, sprayed walls, damaged furniture, everything I’ve worked so hard for the past ten years was completely destroyed.”

“Why?” Jensen demanded to know.

Rich's eyes sought out Jared and Jensen’s heart sank with dread. Of fucking course. Everything Jared touched was doomed to crash and burn. He turned everything into ashes, wasn’t that what he had always said? There was a reason why the gang had picked the Phoenix for an emblem. Richard used to be a gang member, an associate, a friend, maybe, and that was reason enough for Ty and his men to burn Rich’s whole fucking existing to the ground.

“They dropped by the next morning, offered me a real good deal,” Rich continued with a laugh that bordered on lunatic. “Two grand to prevent further ‘accidents’ from happening'.”

“Racketeering,” Jensen realized grimly. The Reapers had gotten the hang of this organized crime thing a lot faster than anyone had probably given them credit for. While Jay had retired and the rest of the gang had tried to steer clear of trouble, the Reapers had built up an imperium for himself, taking over the local crime scene in every sense of the word.

“Extortion, money laundering,” Rich counted off dispassionately. “Call it whatever you want, but these bastards are everywhere and I hear it’s only getting worse since Ty’s back from the pound.”

“Are you paying them?” Jared asked.

“Yeah right," Rich huffed out angrily, shooting Jared a glare. "Can’t exactly afford to spend two thousand dollars per month on these assholes.”

“Can’t afford to lose your fucking head, either,” Chad commented from the side. “Why didn’t you tell us it got that bad? We would have done something.”

“Because you were out, Murray. You got a girl and a kid at home and so does Jay. You guys were trying to get away from this shit and I respect that.” Rich paused and a heavy silence filled the air. “They offered to stop causing me trouble if I told them where Jay was.”

There was a noticeable shift in the air and Jensen felt a cold prickle of fear in his spine when both Chad and Chris tensed next to him. It was an automatic response, instinctive and immediate, all four of them suddenly on edge as if hit by lightning.

“You sold him out?” Chad was the first one to react, eyes narrowed in disgust at the prospect of having to face yet another betrayal from inside their own ranks. Before either of them could do or say more, Chad grabbed Rich’s shirt and pressed his gun beneath the guy’s chin, pulling back the hammer. “He’s got a four-year-old kid, you motherfucker.”

“Chad, stop,” Jared growled out, calling his friend back. Chad shot him a look and Jared gave a minute shake of his head, signaling for him to drop it. Chad obeyed without question or complaint, disentangling his fingers from Rich’s T-shirt and flicking the safety back on.

“He didn’t do it,” Jared said.

“No,” Rich said, dusting off his shirt and shooting Chad a glare. “But I know who did.”

 

 

Jared had hit the gas a little harder on the way back to the garage. He could feel Jensen’s fingers digging harder into his jacket, could feel Jensen’s arms tightening against his middle when he took his turns sharper and more reckless than before. But his mind was reeling. He could barely think straight as he pulled up in the driveway, angrily kicking off the stand and tossing the keys back at Chad before he had idled the engine of his own machine.

He didn’t wait for Jensen to clamber off the bike, didn’t wait to see whether Jensen was feeling sick again because he couldn’t allow himself that distraction. He couldn’t allow himself to look at Jensen’s pale face and think about what else he was hiding- he couldn’t start worrying even more about Jensen than he already did, because he too, needed to keep a clear head if he wanted to make it through this thing unscathed and whole.

“Get Steve and the others,” Jared ordered as soon as he’d entered Chad’s house and yanked the door open wide enough to bang it against the wall. He took the rest of the gang completely off guard with his sudden entrance, everyone instantly wary of getting caught in the hurricane force that was a pissed-off Jared.

“What happened?” Sandy asked, walking up to Chad and putting a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t hard to see that she was terrified, but Jared couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when less than fifty miles from here, the guy who had sold him out to Ty was doing lines of coke and knocking back Tequila shots with the money that could have cost Jared his family. The money that could have been tainted with Jensen’s blood. With Kelly’s.

“Pack your shit and get ready,” Jared ordered dispassionately. “We’re going to the Den."

 

 

Jensen was still leaning against the Yamaha, waiting, when Jared stormed back out. He was holding an unlit cigarette between his fingers, regarding it like it was a foreign object like he didn’t really know what to do with it.

Jared settled in beside Jensen and pulled his lighter from his jacket pocket, holding the flame up in silent invitation. Jensen stared at the fire for a second and Jared swore he saw some kind of conflict in the younger man’s eyes before Jensen leaned in to light up the tip, black smoke curling in the air between them.

“So,” Jensen said, sounding resigned. “What happens next?”

“The place we’re going to hosts an illegal cage fighting ring. The place is full of mobsters, hookers, drug dealers, pimps. Scum of the earth comes together there to watch two guys beat each other to a bloody pulp.”

“Must feel familiar to you,” Jensen said, his voice thick with undisguised bitterness.

Jared clenched his teeth and looked away, his whole posture tense with four years’ worth of festered hurt between them. It wasn’t often that one of them brought back the memories of Jared’s time in Mexico, but this one was apparently hitting a little too close to home for Jensen to give it a pass.

Jared pursed his lips and waited for the sting of the words to abide.

“I can’t stop you from coming along,” he eventually said, choosing his words carefully. “But I’m asking you to sit this one out.” He paused, looking up into Jensen’s eyes, at the golden hues of sunlight reflected in the mossy green.

There were a lot of reasons why he didn’t want Jensen to go with them, but there was only one he knew Jensen would accept. “If things get ugly, I can’t have you right in the middle of it. It’ll distract me, make me an easy target and—”

“Okay,” Jensen cut him off mid-sentence, catching him off guard.

Jared looked at him in wonder, mouth still hanging open. He hadn’t expected for it to be this easy. “Okay?” he asked, sounding skeptical.

“You said this wouldn’t end in blood,” Jensen reminded him softly. “And I believe you.”

Jared swallowed and watched as Jensen dropped the half-finished cigarette to the ground. He stomped it out and looked at Jared, carefully reaching up to cup the side of Jared’s face, grazing his thumb over the light stubble on Jared’s cheeks. His gaze flicked down to Jared’s lips before he slotted their mouths together in a soft kiss. One of his hands wound their way into Jared’s thick hair, teeth scraping Jared’s bottom lip almost teasingly before he pulled back again. His palm settled against Jared’s neck, thumb mindlessly trailing over the tattoo there.

Jensen closed his eyes and bumped his nose against Jared’s.

“You should go."

 

 

As soon as Jared and the others had pulled out of the driveway, Jensen snatched the keys to Sandy’s pickup and revved the engine.

He found the way back to the tattoo parlor easily, remembering every turn because he had paid close attention earlier. Jensen pulled up in a back alley, stashing the 45’ Jared had given him away in the waistband of his jeans.

He didn’t bother to knock, just walked right through the door and straight up to the girl who had welcomed them earlier. “Rich still in? I need to talk to him.”

She narrowed her eyes at Jensen, visibly pissed at the commanding tone he’d used on her. “I’m not your goddamn secretary. Whatever you think you need from Rich, it’ll have to wait.”

She made to turn around and leave, when Jensen’s hand shot out to wrap around her wrist, holding her in place. Jensen leaned down to be at eye level, voice dangerously low. “I suggest you go and get Rich for me before I remember the way you shamelessly eye-fucked my boyfriend earlier and decide to take it personally.”

When Jensen let go of her again she looked decidedly less cocky, face drained of all color as she stared at him with wide eyes. Jensen watched her go with no small sense of satisfaction and then relaxed a bit when she reappeared a moment later with Rich in tow.

“What are you doing here?” Rich asked, eyeing Jensen with a frown. “Thought you and the others were headed to that crime-riddled hell hole.”

“I need to talk to you,” Jensen stated. “In private.”

 

  
  
"You want me to ink you," Richard said, eyeing Jensen from head to toe, assessing him like Jensen did with an empty canvas before painting it.

Jensen said nothing for a long moment. Then he sighed and tugged down the collar of his shirt, revealing the row of burn scars beneath. The flesh had been jagged and raised for a long time before the scars had started fading ever so slightly, but they would never fully go away. Circle-shaped reminders of the torment he had endured forever-burned into his skin. Every goddamn time Jensen took off his shirt he was reminded of the pain, the mind-numbing sense of panic. Every time he was in the shower or wore a V-neck or felt looked into the damn mirror. He couldn’t do this any longer. He wanted them _gone._

"Is that what I think it is?" Richard asked with a grimace as realization dawned on him. He took a step closer, mouth twisting as he took in the extent of the damage, third-degree burn marks that couldn't possibly be mistaken for what they were. "Motherfuckers."  
  
Jensen let go of his shirt, allowing the fabric to slide back into place. "Can you do something about it?"

“You have something in mind?” Rich asked.

The response was automatic. “A Phoenix.”

“Of course,” Rich rolled his eyes and pulled away from Jensen, busying himself with the task of disinfecting his tattoo gun on the counter and putting his supplies away. “Sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not happening. No fucking way I’m putting that shit anywhere on your body.”

“Why?” Jensen demanded. “You put one on Jay. And on yourself!”

“Exactly!” Rich snapped, whirling around to glare at Jensen. “And it got me in a whole lot of trouble ever since. This isn’t just some fucking tramp stamp, kid. If you get yourself marked like that- that’s serious shit, okay? It’s permanent. And it could get you killed.”

“You wanna know what gets you killed?” Jensen threw back heatedly. “Being half in, half out, that’s what.”

Rich locked his jaw. “So what? You wanna be all in, now? Is that why you’re doing this?”

“No,” Jensen smiled sadly at that, shaking his head. “I was ‘all in’ the second I met Jared.”

“Then why?” Rich demanded. “Give me one goddamn reason why I should do this.”

Jensen grazed his fingers over the raised scars on his collar bone. He closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. “Cause when I look at myself in the mirror,” he said, slowly opening his eyes again and gathering his bearings. “I wanna see the reason why I’m putting up with all the fear, and the pain. And I wanna remind myself that it’s worth it.”

Rich propped himself up on the counter and hung his head, his back turned on Jensen. A few seconds passed in heavy silence. “Does Jay know about this?”

“It’s my body,” Jensen said. “This isn’t about Jay.”

Rich huffed out a breath and shook his head. “This is all about Jay,” he said. “And he’s gonna be pissed when he finds out.”

Jensen was quiet after that and Rich let out a long-suffering exhale before settling back down in his chair and grabbing his gloves from the counter.

He patted the leather chair in front of him. “Hop on before I rethink this.”

 

 

Diego de Luna Sanchez was was having a good day.

He had won five grand in the boxing ring and then bent some bitch over the bathroom sink. As far as good days went, in Diego’s book this one was definitely up there.

Until it suddenly wasn’t.

He was in the middle of the crowd, collecting bets for the next round when the doors to the Den suddenly opened and the goddamn members of the Black Legion walked in like they were on a fucking mission.

Jay was leading from the front wearing a leather jacket with the black Phoenix emblem on the back, blown up in size to match the artwork beneath. He didn’t exactly look like he’d been in hiding. If anything, Jay had put on more muscle over the years, and judging from the lethal expression on his face, he wasn’t just here to watch the fight, either.

Diego stashed away the stack of money he’d made during the last round and straightened up to his full height as Jared marched through the parting crowd and stopped in front of him flanked by two of his most loyal watchdogs. There were five of them in total, not counting that little brunette spitfire Jared used to fuck.

“Didn’t know you were back in town,” Diego said, his voice dripping with provocation. “Thought you were too busy stuffing your cock down your boyfriend’s throat to care about what was going down in Roxbury.”

Jared grabbed Diego by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him threateningly close, his heavy breath ghosting down Diego’s neck. “One more word about him and I’ll cut _your_ dick off and feed it to you, you worthless piece of shit.”

“Sore spot, huh?” Diego teased because after what had happened with Lucian that night in the warehouse, everyone now knew the story about Jared’s Hollywood romance. The guy would have made a good gang leader, could have gone places if he’d only stuck to the code. Now he had made himself vulnerable and it was only a matter of time before he got himself killed. “Little birdie told me that boy of yours gives real good head. Wanna let me test-drive him once before Ty works him over?”

Diego had long enough to catch the glint of Jared’s bared teeth before a fist hit him square in the face, the pain bright and all-consuming. He went to the ground hard and fast, knees and palms crashing to the dirty concrete as his men drew their guns behind him. Diego spat a glob of bloodied spittle to the ground as Jared manhandled him back to his feet, poking a loaded semi into his ribs.

“I’mma give you one last warning,” Jared hissed before shoving the barrel of his gun down against Diego’s groin. “Call off your watchdogs, or you can kiss your dick goodbye. And I mean that literally.”

One of Jared’s guys- the one with the long hair and the bandana leaned in close enough for a low whisper. “You wouldn’t be the first fucker who lost his junk because of Jay.”

Realizing that they were serious, Diego gestured for his men to lower their weapons.

“That’s a good boy,” Jared praised with a depreciating pat to his jaw, before he let go of Diego’s shirt, keeping his gun trained on him. “Rich tells me you’ve been real busy while I was gone. Doing business with the Reapers. That true?”

Diego just looked Jared dead in the eyes, heart hammering frantically in his chest and his palms sweating as the terror of what was about to happen slowly sank into him.

Jared grabbed the back of Diego’s neck and gruffly yanked him into a headlock. “You wanna know what else Rich told me about you?” he growled, dangerously low. “He said that you’ve been a regular little Chatty Cathy, selling stories to our common friend, Ty.”

“Fuck you!” Diego hissed. He brought one knee up in an effort to dislodge himself but before he knew it, two more sets of hands were on him holding him in place. Jared rewarded him with a sharp right hook to the face and Diego grunted in pain, feeling his left eye tear up immediately. The punch had split the skin open on the sharp curve of his eye socket, blood welling and clouding his vision. “¡Te matará, hijo de puta! ¡ Mataos todos!”

Jared roughly shoved him to the ground and spat down on him before landing one final kick between his legs that caused him to wail in agony and curl in on himself.

“Found the Stardust, Jay,” one of Jared’s goons said as he walked up to the gang leader with three cellophane-wrapped parcels of cocaine in his hands. “Worth sixty grand, at least.”

Jared gave a low whistle and crouched down before Diego, who was still panting and trying to get his breathing back under control.

“Sixty grand, huh?” he asked as he pulled his golden zippo from his jacket. He lit up a cigarette for himself and took one drag before leaning in close, exhaling a lungful of smoke directly into Diego’s bloodied face. “Must have climbed up the corporate ladder fast, then, if Ty puts that much trust in you.”

When Diego started sputtering and coughing, Jared held the flame of the Zippo up close enough to Diego’s face to let the flames reflect in his eyes. “Since you like talking so much, you might as well deliver a message for us.”

Jared broke his zippo in half and dribbled the gasoline inside all over the pack of welded cocaine before lowering the burning cigarette to the edge of the parcel and watching it go up in flames in spectacular fashion, blazing heat licking away at the white powder and eating it up, dollar for fucking dollar.

“No! Nooo! You motherfucker!” Diego howled, reaching out desperately toward the burning pile and hissing as the flames licked at his hands. “I’m gonna kill you ALL!”

Jared delivered one last punch that knocked Diego’s head to the side, almost snapping his neck in the process. His nose was broken, blood pooling in the back of his mouth and threatening to choke him. He sputtered and gasped as Jared grabbed him by the throat and hissed in his ear. “You can send Ty our regards and tell him that if he ever touches one of my own again, the next thing I torch will be his motherfucking eyeballs.”

With that, Jared rose back to his feet and sent a deadly look around the crowd. Everybody was looking on in stunned silence and Jared felt a dangerous smile tug at one corner of his lips as he curled his fingers into a fist, Diego’s blood dripping from his knuckles.

“Go and spread the word,” Jared called out over their heads. “The Black Legion is back.”

 

 

„So you’re a virgin, huh?” Richard grinned, clapping Jensen on the shoulder as he handed Jensen a clipboard with papers. “You wanna read and sign that before we get started.”

“Seriously?” Jensen asked with a frown and Rich just lifted a shoulder in response.

“It’s policy, man.”

Jensen signed the papers without really reading them and handed them back to the owner of the parlor. Rich took it and turned back around to his equipment. He did something with the tattoo machine and when a soft buzzing suddenly filled the air, Jensen tensed up, running his hands up and down his thighs nervously. Thankfully the buzzing stopped again, a second later and Jensen swore he could hear his heart thudding against his chest in the silence that followed.

“You’re eighteen, right,” Rich asked as he tossed a look back over his shoulder and Jensen shot him a glare in response, jaw shifting impatiently. He chuckled and lifted his hands.  
“Relax. I’m just kidding.”

Rich tossed the clipboard aside and put black rubber gloves on. “So you want the exact same one Jared’s got on his chest?” he asked with a slight frown. “You have a pic for me?”

“Yeah, same one,” Jensen agreed and then fished a folded piece of paper from his jeans pocket. Rich reached for it, probably expecting for it to be a print-out version of Jared’s tattoo, but then he paused when he saw that the paper was dog-eared and blank.

“You got a pen?” Jensen asked and Rich looked at him skeptically before handing him a ballpoint. Jensen slapped the paper onto the counter and started with the shape and line out of Jared’s Phoenix, adding more details as he went along, a few feathers, the flames climbing up towards the sky all around the bird’s head like a halo. Rich watched in awe as Jensen’s hands flew over the paper, creating a sketch that was a damn near replica of Jared’s original. “Here. Like that."

“Dude,” Rich breathed out, sounding impressed. “You got some mad talent.”

Jensen bit his bottom lip to bite back a smile. “That's- it's nothing.”

“Nah, I know talent when I see it,” Rich said and backed away from the counter. “Gimme a few minutes to sketch out the mask and then we’ll get started."

Jensen nodded once more, waiting patiently until Rich returned with a sheet that had the print-on version of the tattoo on. “Lose the shirt,” the artist instructed and Jensen did as he was told, pulling the tee over his head and tossing it aside. Rich hovered over him for a second before placing the sheet on the proper spot, just above Jensen’s collarbone, wetting it with a wash cloth. After a moment he pulled the sheet off, inspecting his work with a critical eye. “You wanna go take a look at it real quick?”

Jensen hopped off the bench and walked up to the full body mirror hanging off the wall. For a moment he forgot how to breathe, fingers moving up to hesitantly trail along the fake ink. Turning to the side and inspecting himself, Jensen was surprised to find that it looked good on him, not out of place like he had originally expected.

“What do you think?” Rich asked, eyeing him curiously.

Jensen let out a soft laugh and shook his head, unable to believe that he was really standing here in a tattoo parlor in one of the shadiest parts of town and getting himself inked up permanently.

“Last chance for you to chicken out,” Rich offered, seemingly noticing his hesitation.

Jensen steeled himself and walked up to the tattoo table, lying back down and Rich sighed before hooking a needle to the tattoo machine.

“I’m gonna start small,” he said before dipping the tip of the needle into black ink. “Let you get a feel for it. Then I’m gonna go right through.”

Jensen closed his eyes, heart speeding up in his chest at the sound of the needle buzzing back to life. It was close to him, about to permanently brand him for life. He opened his eyes again when he felt a shadow fall over his face and noticed that Rich was leaning over him. “Want me to hold your hand?” he teased with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Fuck off.” Jensen murmured, cheeks flushing a bright red. Apparently, that was Rich’s cue to get started because the next second Jensen jumped at the sting of the needle breaking his soft skin. It hurt, sure, but it wasn’t half as bad as Jensen had expected.

In fact, the persistent sting of the needle was a walk in the park compared to the way the tip of those cigarettes had burned themselves into Jensen’s skin. Jensen’s eyes fluttered closed and unbidden, the memories of that night came back, clouding his mind. He fought against it for a moment, but he knew it was already too late. Before he knew it, he could smell the salty breeze of the ocean, the faint scent of musty wood and rusty metal, the coppery tang of blood lying heavy on his tongue and the sickly-sweet scent of burnt flesh invaded his nostrils, making him gag...

_“Talk,” Lucian ordered and shoved the phone into Jensen’s sagging head. Jensen blinked up at his tormentor through sweat-soaked strands of hair, fighting to drag air through his blood-clogged nose. Even through the phone, Jensen could feel Jared’s presence, could sense the other man’s panic and yet he couldn’t seem to get his lips working, couldn’t force any words past his trembling lips._

_“Nothing to say to your boyfriend?” Lucian mocked cruelly, taking a deep drag from his cigarette before exhaling a cloud of thick smoke through his nostrils. Halfway through the guy’s dragged-out exhale, Jensen’s eyes caught sight of the glowing tip of the cigarette, the alluring flicker of fire that reflected in his teary gaze and somewhere deep down inside, he knew what was going to happen, recognizing the cruel intent in Lucian’s gaze. And there must have been a shift in the air because Jared suddenly sounded panicked on the other line. “Jensen, fucking say somethi—“_

_Too fucking late._

_Jensen’s eyes widened and he let out a strangled sound of protest, feet scrambling helplessly against the brittle floor boards but there was no escape. Lucian grabbed his shoulder and pressed the glowing tip out on Jensen’s skin, right where it was stretched thin across Jensen’s collarbone. The pain was like nothing Jensen had ever felt before. It was bright and all-consuming, hot and cold at the same time. It had every muscle in his body jolt and spasm in protest, tendons standing out beneath the skin on his neck as a blood-curdling scream of agony was ripped from his throat._

_He didn’t remember much after that, maybe because he blacked out from the pain. Maybe because his psyche played a trick on him. The only thing he did remember, with startling clarity was the way Jared had called out for him on the other line, his voice barely recognizable behind all that fuming rage and wrecked grief. “Jensen! Jensen! What the fuck do you want, you motherfucker? What is it? Money, the territory? The goddamn fucking city? What?!”_

_And maybe it had been the way Jared had so easily surrendered, the way his voice had cracked and wavered and pleaded for Lucian to stop this madness, to let Jensen go and take him instead, that had Jensen’s last bit of resolve crumbling. His scream tapered off into full-body sobs as he cried hot tears of pain and hopelessness. This wasn’t how he wanted to die. There were so many things he still wanted to do, so many things he still needed to say. He wanted to see his family one more time, wanted one more day spent in the comforting presence of his friends. One more kiss shared with Jared._

_The conversation between Lucian and Jared continued but Jensen was no longer paying attention. Blood and sweat were stinging his eyes, tears blurring his vision and Jensen’s head was throbbing with every shuddering beat of his heart, fear creeping through his body like poison, reducing his entire world to one word- one name._

_Jare… Jared… god, please—Jay._

_Jared._

“—ensen, you okay? Shit, c'mon, man. Look at me.” Rich’s voice startled Jensen back to the present and he jerked in his seat, shaky fingers coming up to slide through the salty wetness on his cheeks.

_Fuck._

Goddamn flashbacks were gonna be the death of him.

Rich was hovering over him with a worried expression on his face, the tattoo gun switched off in his hands. “You okay, man? You kinda spaced out there for a second.”

Jensen swallowed and gave a jerky nod in response. He glanced down to see the half-finished tattoo and then winced when Rich wiped away some of the blood and ink with a paper towel.

“We uh… we can take a break if you want,” Rich offered softly, making the words come off as casual when they both knew it was a silent offer for Jensen to gather his bearings.

“No,” Jensen said with a determined shake of his head. “Finish it.”

Rich hesitated for just a moment longer before he got back to work, quickly finishing off the color and shading. Jensen closed his eyes as he felt the needle continue to move across his skin. He lost track of time then, not sure how much time passed before Rich finally finished but he guessed it must have been a while before the telltale hum of the tattoo machine finally buzzed off into silence.

“That’s it, you’re done,” Rich gave his verdict, seemingly satisfied with the outcome and Jensen gingerly lifted himself off the table, before walking back to the mirror to get a good look. As soon as he saw his reflection, his mouth dropped open and his green eyes widened. It was just like Jared’s, the dark wings of the Phoenix spreading out across the base of his neck, between his pectoral muscles and down towards his sternum. The color of the flames was a vibrant contrast to the black trail of feathers fanned out over his heart, the scars barely visible beneath the ink.

“Wow,” he whispered in awe. “It’s… it’s better than I thought it was going to be.”

Rich chuckled and gently guided Jensen around before applying a bit of antiseptic cream to the reddened skin around the tattoo. “You need to keep it covered for the next couple of hours. When you take the bandage off, you put some Neosporin on it to keep it from getting infected.” Rich finished bandaging it and then leaned back in his chair, sounding a bit exhausted. “When it starts to itch- and it will -don’t scratch it or it might mess with the color. After a month of so, you might wanna come back for a touch-up.”

Jensen nodded absentmindedly, his hand reaching up to touch the bandage almost reverently, heart beating wildly beneath his fingertips. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe it either,” Rich huffed out a remorseful little laugh, shaking his head. "Jared's gonna kill you, man. And when he's done with you he'll come after me next."

Jensen felt a slow smile spread across his lips as he gathered up his shirt and gingerly put it back on and hiding the bandage beneath.

"He'll get over it."

 

Kelly was already half asleep in Jensen’s lap when the front door to Chad's house opened and Jared stepped in.

“Daddyyy!” the sleepy toddler wriggled free from Jensen's hold and crossed the room in a flash, throwing himself at his father and demanding to be picked up. Jared chuckled softly and lifted Kelly up with a wince of pain that didn’t go unnoticed by Jensen. Letting out a weary breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Jensen got up from his spot on the couch and walked over.

“Hey,” he greeted, stuffing his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Subconsciously, he scanned Jared’s body for any hidden injuries, trying to find the source of his boyfriend’s discomfort. “You okay?”

Jared stopped peppering Kelly’s head with kisses for long enough to throw Jensen a reassuring look over the top of their son’s curly head. “Yeah. All good.”

“How’d it go?” Jensen asked.

“Uneventful,” Jared said and gently lowered Kelly back to the ground. He dropped his palm on Kelly’s head and Jensen’s eyes widened when he saw Jared’s busted knuckles and the blood that had started dripping down his wrists and onto Kelly’s soft curls. Jensen saw the smear of crimson on his son’s hair, on his forehead and something inside of him broke at the sight. He felt his stomach turn and his insides roar in protest.

Jensen eyed Jared’s chest and found little spatters of blood on his jacket. He grabbed the jacket and pulled it aside to get a better look. There was even more blood on the shirt hidden beneath.

“Uneventful, huh?” Jensen repeated bitterly.

“It’s not mine,” Jared explained as if that made things okay.

Jensen felt an ugly laugh bubble up in his throat. He shook his head and rubbed a shaking hand over his face, then through his hair, clenching the strands to keep himself from doing something really stupid like punching Jared in the face.

“Go get yourself cleaned up, Jay."

 

 

That night, Jensen snuck out to the bathroom in the garage to take a pregnancy test he’d been carrying around for way too fucking long.

He opened it with shaking fingers and stared at it for a good fifteen minutes before he was able to bring himself to use it.

He shivered as he sat down on the toilet lid in nothing but a shirt and his boxers and waited. 

The whole thing seemed oddly reminiscent of the time he had found out about Kelly, same fucked-up circumstances, same fucked-up timing. 

He was almost certain at this point- the abdominal cramps, the sickness, the nausea having left no doubt about what was going on and yet, somehow, those three minutes he spent waiting in the cold dark, hoping against fucking hope that he was wrong, were the longest three minutes of his life.

So far, Jensen had been able to pretend that it wasn’t happening, that it wasn’t _real._ He had swallowed down his pain and brushed off Jared’s concern. He had looked at Kelly and thought of him as his only child when he knew- he _knew_ that it was no longer true. And he had ignored all the signs that should have had him running to the nearest hospital to get himself checked out because acknowledging that something felt _wrong_ would have meant acknowledging the truth and Jensen, selfishly, hadn't been ready for that.

But when Jensen looked down into his lap and saw three little crosses staring back at him, the game of pretense was finally over.

Jensen took a shaky breath, then another, greedier one and suddenly he was gasping for air, gulping down oxygen like a drowning man who just broke the surface of the ocean. He clutched at his chest- at the bandage above his heart where Jared's Phoenix now was and let out a sob he had held in his chest for way too long, a sob that tore through his entire body, from head to toe and shook him to the core.

There was no more denying it. This was real.

It was happening.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Sorry for taking so long in between chapters. I'll try to do better, promise! If you can spare a second, please share your thoughts with me!! Reviews make me happy and fuel the fire. <3 HUGE THANKS goes out to Kimenem and ficluv82 for their time and contribution! You guys are truly amazing! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings* for adult language, graphic sexual content, homophobic language, weapons, mentioned physical abuse, violence, character death (not any of the major characters), murder.

 

 

 **Open Highway  
** **Chapter 4**

“So let me get this straight,” Ty said in a low, dangerous voice. “You wanna tell me that Jared walked in here with a couple of his _buddies_ and lit up six pounds of Black Rock while you and about fifty other people stood by and did nothing?”

Diego’s heart was thumping wildly in his chest at the murderous expression on Ty’s face, at the unspoken threat in his words. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging painfully into his palm. “Jay had a gun pointed at me. He was gonna fucking kill me, Ty!”

Ty pulled his own gun so fast, it gave Diego whiplash. He was stunned into silence, hands instinctively shooting up as Ty’s Baretta poked him in the ribs. “Please- _please_ , man! Just let me explain—”

“Did he say anything to you?” Ty wanted to know, a deadly calm settling on his features. His whole expression smoothed out into stone-cold indifference and Diego realized with startling clarity that no matter what he answered, his next words were likely to be his last.

Fear churned his guts and engulfed his mind, knocking all other thoughts aside. “He said… he said that the Legion was back.”

Ty’s finger twitched on the trigger and Diego flinched. “No p-please! Don’t do this, boss- I can get you the money! The fights are going really well, okay? We’re making at least two or three grand on a good night. I-I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

Ty lifted the gun from Diego’s neck and relief crushed over him like a tidal wave, clouding his gaze with tears as he sagged to his knees. “Thank you— thank you, boss. I’m n-not gonna disappoint you again, I swear, I _swear_ I’ll—”

Diego never got to finish.

There was a loud bang, followed by a bright flash and then he crumbled to the floor, eyes still ripped wide open in shock and horror, even as blood trickled from between his eyes.

 

A startled gasp escaped Jensen as he shot upright in bed, his thin T-shirt clinging to the sweat that was slicked across his body. He was shaking all over as he switched on the light.

The alarm clock read 6:30 AM. He didn’t remember falling asleep, his memories fuzzy. Trying to get his heart rate to calm down, Jensen slowly reconstructed the previous night in his mind- the fight with Tom, the way he broke down in Chad’s garage, the tattoo parlor… He reached up to his chest and closed his eyes when his fingers brushed the bandage on his collarbone. It all came back to him then. Getting the tattoo wasn’t the worst part of what the previous night had held in store for him.

Jensen ran his hands through his damp hair, twisting the thick strands around his fingers.

He was pregnant.

They were having another baby.

Jensen swallowed and turned around to find the other side of the bed, Jared’s side, empty. It didn’t really come as a surprise. Jared usually took the night watch. But Kelly wasn’t there either. He wasn’t in his usual spot, curled up next to Jensen or with his nose buried in Jared’s pillow. He wasn’t softly snoring beside Jensen, wasn’t poking him in the ribs with his sharp little elbows or stealing the blankets. The four-year-old was simply gone. 

Dread crept over Jensen like an icy chill at the realization, terror numbing his brain. His panicked state of mind only offered one possibility- somebody had taken their son. 

“Jared!” Jensen leaped out of bed and almost tripped when his legs got tangled up in the duvet. He bolted out of the room and down the staircase, taking two steps at a time and nearly toppling over his own legs in his panic. “JARED!”

A solid wall of flesh impacted with Jensen and he grunted, the wind suddenly knocked from him as two hands settled on his shoulders. “Jensen! What’s going on, what happened?”

Chris.

Jensen tried to shove him away, but the hands held on tight, not letting him pass. “Talk to me, man. What’s going on? You hurt?” Chris asked, eyeing Jensen as if he half expected him to be maimed or missing an organ or something.

“Kel’s gone. Ty took him, they took him, Chris!” Jensen stammered in between frantic intakes of air. “We need to—”

“What?” Chris asked, his expression changing from shock to relief to annoyance in the span of three seconds. Rolling his eyes, Chris scrubbed a hand over his scruff.  “You scared the fucking shit out of me, man. I thought we were under attack or something.”

“Are you not listening?” Jensen growled, landing an angry shove to Chris’ chest and sending him back against the wall. “They took Kelly! They have my son, you goddamn—”

“No, they don’t!” Chris snapped right back and caught Jensen’s flailing wrists before they could do any real damage. They were both breathing heavily, their nostrils flaring as Chris stared Jensen down, his strong fingers digging into Jensen’s wrists. “Kelly is fucking fine. He woke up early, snuck out of the room and Jay and I have been keeping an eye on him ever since, alright? He’s perfectly fine, Jen. Not a scratch on his body, you hear me?

“What?” Jensen could barely breathe, let alone speak. His stomach felt as if it was full of lead, his feet set in concrete, mind uncooperative as he tried to process Chris’ words.

Instead of repeating himself, Chris gently tugged him forward towards the door that separated Chad’s house from the garage he had bought for himself and the gang a couple of years ago. “Here, see for yourself.”

Chris pulled the door open and Jensen’s eyes widened when he spotted Kelly across the room. Jared was right there with him, picking their son up and lifting him onto a Harley.

“What’s this one?” Kelly asked, touching the apehangers of the motorcycle.

“Those are the handlebars,” Jared explained patiently. “You use them for steering.”

“And this one?” Kelly toyed with the speedometer, tapping his fingers against it.

“That’s an odometer,” Jared answered. “It measures the distances traveled by the bike.”

Jared leaned over Kelly and gave his hair a playful ruffle. There was a softness in his eyes, a gentleness in his voice that was specially reserved for their son. Moments like this never failed to stun Jensen, the way Jared could go from having his hands covered in someone’s blood, to being a loving father like it was nothing.

“Daddy look, this is an omometer!” Kelly beamed, trying to repeat his father’s earlier words.

Jared leaned down to brush an unruly strand from Kelly’s eyes. “When you get older I’m going to teach you how to ride one of these.”                                                                                                                                                                       

Kelly giggled, dimples on full display as he looked up at Jared with utter hero-worship in his eyes. “Can you show me now?” he asked, smiling up at the man whom he obviously adored.

Jared chuckled. “Not yet, kiddo. Let’s wait until you get a little older.”

Jensen’s eyes filled as the scene unfolded before him, his heart aching even as relief hit him with enough force to make him weak in the knees. He swayed and reached out to plant a palm against the doorframe to hold himself upright.

“Hey,” Chris’ gentle voice pulled him out of his trance. His friend cupped the side of his face with his callous palm, capturing Jensen’s attention. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah, ‘m good,” Jensen nodded jerkily, offering up a wavering smile. “I uh… sorry for—”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Chris sighed. “I get it, Jen. Just take it easy, okay?”

Right. Take it easy.

Jensen shouldered past his friend into the garage without offering up another word.

“Hey,” Jared greeted with a soft smile on his lips. “Look who’s up.”

“Yeah, hey,” Jensen replied, angry now that the shock had subsided. He looked down at Kel, at how small he looked on the dismantled Harley and all he could feel was the mind-numbing fear of losing him. He leveled Jared with an accusing look. “You should have woken me.”

Jared frowned and shook his head, visibly confused as to where Jensen’s annoyance came from. “There was no reason to do so. I was watching him.”

“Well, you can’t just fucking take him like that, okay?” Jensen burst out.

“I can’t?” Jared challenged, his voice deathly calm and serious. “I’m his father, Jensen.”

Jensen swallowed thickly, gaze flickering down to where Kelly was watching the exchange with wide, scared eyes and just like that the tension drained from his shoulders and the anger whooshed out of him. They couldn’t do this, not in front of Kelly.

Chris seemed to have noticed it too because the next second he was there. “C’mon squirt. Let’s go get some grub. I’m starving,” Chris said, whisking Kelly into his strong, tattooed arms and carrying him out of the garage to give them some privacy.

The door had barely fallen into the lock when Jared fixated Jensen with a hard look. “Care to tell me what your problem is?”

Jensen crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Last night I went to bed with Kel and this morning I woke up alone, Jay. Do you have any idea what it felt like to think that someone had taken him?”

Jared held his gaze for a long moment before he let out a long, harsh sigh. “Look, you were still asleep so Chris and I kept him down here with us. It didn’t even cross my mind that you could wake up thinking—” Jared’s words trailed off into silence.

Jensen ran a hand over his face and let out a long, cleansing breath. “It’s not your fault, I just… I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop and I just keep thinking that— what if one day I wake up and he’s really gone, Jay?”

“That won’t happen.” Jared stopped him from taking the thought any further. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. No one will ever come close to Kel, alright? Over my dead body.”

“Yeah, cause _that’s_ a comforting thought,” Jensen huffed out sarcastically.

Jared said nothing for a long moment. He approached Jensen and gently lifted his chin with two fingers until Jensen’s eyes met his own.

“Look, you’re scared and I get it.” He swiped his thumb over the flushed cheeks, wiping away the wetness there. “But you can’t keep doing this to yourself, Jensen. It’s not good for you. Just... try not to worry so much ok?”

Jared leaned in to kiss him and Jensen could fee his heart speeding up in his chest. It was a simple, chaste kiss, just a light brush of lips really, but it made Jensen’s blood pump faster all the same. Somehow Jared’s hands found their way onto Jensen’s waist, fingers splayed against his sides, dangerously close to his belly and Jensen broke the kiss on a sharp exhale, turning his head away.

“What?” Jared’s thumb brushed Jensen’s hipbone, drawing comforting circles Into the skin above the waistband of his jeans.

Jensen closed his eyes and licked his lips.

“Nothing,” he exhaled and withdrew from Jared’s touch. “It's nothing."

 

 

They found Kelly sitting on the kitchen counter and making a mess of his clothes as he munched on his bowl of Lucky Charms, milk dribbling down his chin and down the front of his favorite Batman pajamas. “Look papa! Uncle Chris lets me have Lucky Charms!”

Jensen shot Chris a glare across the kitchen island and Chris only lifted an eyebrow in feigned innocence. “What? What’s so bad about Lucky Charms?”

“The sugar rush that follows.” Jensen rolled his eyes at their friend. “Remind me to bring lots of candy whenever you and Danni need a babysitter.”

An unreadable emotion crossed Chris’ eyes at the words and Jensen exchanged a quick glance with Jared to see whether he’d noticed it, too. Jared frowned and opened his mouth, probably wanting to ask what was wrong, but Kelly chose that moment to interrupt.

“Daddy, can I have ice cream? And broccoli?”

Jensen and Jared both looked at their son who sat hunched over his bowl of soggy cereal, his cloud of curly hair already in tangles from running around the garage all morning long. His eyes shone brightly in the sunlight that fell in through the shades and his hair looked much lighter, almost blonde, his dimples at full display.

Jensen adored him beyond sanity.

“You want ice-cream AND broccoli? That some kind of superhero-power recipe we don’t know about?”Jared was the first one to recover from Kelly’s totally off-topic comment.

“And you’re planning to eat them together?” Chris asked Kelly before leaning down to steal a spoonful of Lucky Charms and earning himself a barrage of giggles from the four-year-old.

“No,” Kelly shook his head in denial. “I need to earn the ice cream first. That’s what the broccoli’s for. Papa always says I have to eat the green stuff or there’s no ice cream.”

Jensen snickered. He picked Kelly up and hugged him against his chest, peppering his baby soft curls with kisses. “God, I love you,” he murmured in a rush of affection when Kelly’s little arms locked firmly behind Jensen’s neck. Jared stood across the kitchen island, watching them with a fond expression on his face and Jensen’s stomach gave a warm little flutter in response.

“Uncle Chris will be in charge of your lunch today, so I’d say ice cream isn’t totally ruled out.” Jensen chuckled. He put the boy down again and ruffled his hair. “C’mon now, let’s get you dressed, huh?”

Chad’s house had three small bedrooms, a spacious living room and a small kitchen nook to the right. It was an old building, but bright and airy with large wooden windows and sturdy hardwood floors. It had come with an old, pretty run-down garage, which was why Chad had probably chosen it. After Jared and Jensen had left Boston, this house had been exactly what Chad and Sandy were able to afford and what the gang had needed to recover. It was in one of the nicer areas of South Boston, too, with a couple of parks and a kindergarten for Elizabeth nearby. They had planned to make this their home, their safe haven and now look where it got them.

“Are you and daddy leaving again?” Kelly blinked up at Jensen questioningly from where they were trudging up the old staircase hand-in-hand. Jensen felt a sting of guilt in his chest at having to hand Kelly off to be watched by the gang once again, but it had to be done if they wanted to bring this whole mess to an end.

He gave Kelly’s hand a soft squeeze before crouching down to be at eye level with him. “Hey, we’ll be back real soon, okay?” He smiled at his son. “I promise.”

“Where are you going?” Kelly demanded, never one to give up easily.

“We are going to visit your grandpa, Jeff,” Jensen explained softly and then regretted it the next second when Kelly’s eyes widened in excitement.

They talked about Jeff a lot, showed Kel pictures of his grandfather so their son would grow up knowing him, even when he physically couldn’t see him. It was the only thing they could do for now, especially while Kel was still so young.

“Really?! Can I come? I wanna see grandpa, too!”

Jensen’s lips tugged down at the corners, his heart giving a painful sting. He had never wanted for his son to feel rejected or left behind. But they couldn’t involve him into this mess, not at any cost. “Sorry, bud. Maybe next time.”

Sure, they wanted Kelly to know who his grandfather was, but Jensen would rather eat a bullet than to bring his four-year-old son anywhere close to that crime-riddled pit Jeff was stuck in. There were reasons why they kept the prison visits at a minimum. Bad enough that they had to go there every once in awhile. But Kel? He would never get to see a prison from the inside if Jensen had a say in the matter.

“C’mon, lift your arms for me,” Jensen urged softly, holding up a soft pullover.

 

 

They were led through the same long white hallway, into a large room filled with cabin-like booths, separating the visitors from the prisoners.

Jared wished like hell that it was different. He hadn’t hugged Jeff in so long, he could barely remember what it felt like to be close to his old man, to feel his work-roughened hands patting his cheek or shoulder and smell the whiff of pinewood that clung to his skin.

Jensen was fidgeting in the chair next to him, uncomfortable under the watchful gaze of the other inmates. He sat unusually close to Jared, jaw locked tight in disgust when one of the prisoners shot him a lewd grin from one of the opposite booths.

And just like that, Jared was suddenly thankful for the glass wall separating them from the inmates because otherwise he would have jumped across that table and knocked the guy’s teeth down his throat. Having Jensen in here, in this godforsaken place, with all these sexually repressed scumbags was like dangling a slab of bloody meat in front of a cage full of starving lions. Every goddamn time one of them so much as shot a dirty grin in Jensen’s direction, Jared came pretty close to committing murder himself.

“Jay, drop it,” Jensen sighed, shooting Jared a look. “I can hear your teeth grinding.”

“If he makes one goddamn comment, I’m gonna rip his fucking tongue out.”

Jensen grimaced at the words, knowing Jared well enough to hear the seriousness of his tone, to know that there was a very high likelihood of him following through on the threat.

Thankfully, their minds were taken off of the guy, when the familiar buzz of a siren tore through the quiet chatter in the room and the door on the end of the hallway opened. Out came the prisoners, one at a time like it had been drilled into them. Their posture was guarded, cautious, their shoulders hunched and their eyes sharp as they shuffled outside. Jared’s stomach was in knots as he thought about how, being locked up in a goddamn place like this, you couldn’t let your guard down for a second or it might be your last.

When the inmates dispersed among the room, settling in the chairs behind the glass on the other side and greeting their families, it became obvious that Jeff was the last to enter the hall. Jared’s eyes were glued to the door and when they finally latched onto the familiar face, his heart missed a beat.

Jeff looked terrible. His left eye was swollen shut, purple and blue hues staining the pale skin on his sunken-in face. His hair was a mess and his lip was busted open and clotted with blood.

Jared could feel his heart rate spike when Jeff sat down in the booth across from them with weariness etched into his face. His hands were shaking when he reached for the phone.

Jared locked his jaw and picked up the receiver on their end of the booth, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily down the line. “ _Who?_ ”

Jeff kept on smiling that wry, tired smile of his. “It’s good to see you too, kid.”

“I want _names_ ,” Jared demanded in a throaty growl, unwilling to let the issue drop.

Jensen gently tugged on Jared’s arm and turned the phone so that both of them could use the speaker. “Jeff. Did you get checked out at the medical ward? That cut looks pretty deep. It might get inflamed if you don’t—”

“Guys, guys,” Jeff gently cut him off, shaking his head with a sad expression on his face. He looked tired somehow, older beyond his years and Jared’s heart ached for the man he’d spent his whole life looking up to. “I don’t get to see you that often, so can we just- _talk?_ ”

Jared exchanged a quick glance with Jensen before forcing himself to let it go for the moment. He’d find out soon enough if somebody was giving Jeff trouble and then that guy would be in a goddamn world of pain.

“How are you holdin’ up in there?” Jensen asked, voice gentler now, empathetic.

“I’ve had worse,” Jeff answered. “What about you two? Kel keeping you on your toes?”

Jensen gave a soft smile at that. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“That bad, huh?” Jeff snorted, his eyes taking on a faraway glimmer. “Steve showed me pictures last week. He looks just like Jay when he was younger, dimples and all. I had to do a double-take at first.”

Jensen rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Bad enough that he’s got Jared’s temper. And then he looks like him, too. How’s that even fair?”

“Don’t pout,” Jared teased with a wink. “Next one will take after you.”

The words sent a jolt through Jensen and suddenly he looked pale, the smile slowly fading from his lips as he grew serious. The transition was so sudden, so unexpected that it threw Jared off for a moment, a frown forming on his face. But before he could dwell on what was wrong with Jensen, Jeff cleared his throat, reverting their attention onto himself.

“What are you doing back in Boston, anyway?” Jeff asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, boys. I’m glad to see you both, but what gives?”

Jensen’s questioning gaze flickered over to Jared. “We decided to visit the gang. It’s been a while, so I took some days off from work.”

A frown formed on Jeff’s face, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, but whatever he wanted to say next was cut short when Jared interfered. “Ty’s on the loose. He attacked Katie.”

Jeff’s entire expression darkened at that, his throat working as he processed the information.

Jensen shot Jared an accusatory look but Jared chose to ignore it. If anything good came of Jeff’s prison sentence, then it was the fact that Jeff was so close to other gang members, that he could gain any sort of information that wasn’t making it past the walls of MCI Cedar Junction. As much as Jared wished it was different, they didn’t have time for small talk.

“Are you sure it's him?” Jeff swallowed.

“There’s no doubt,” Jared said. “Motherfucker damn near killed her.”

Jeff squeezed his eyes shut, jaw muscle ticking in what looked like repressed anger and helplessness. He opened his mouth and then closed it again like he didn’t dare to voice whatever was on his mind.

Jared frowned, a feeling of unease settling in his stomach. He watched the myriad of emotions flickering across Jeff’s worn features and then realization suddenly struck him.

“You knew,” he muttered. “You knew about Ty when we last talked on the phone, didn't you?”

“It was just rumors,” Jeff tried to explain. “I had no idea that he was actually going to be released. Jay, you have to understand, you were out, you were happy. I couldn’t risk that on some goddamn prison gossip I’d listened in on.”

“Have you fucking lost it?”Jared snarled into the speaker. “Katie almost died because you decided to keep your mouth shut! What the fuck were you thinking, Jeff?”

Jeff’s gaze flickered over to the guard that was standing at the wall opposite from him and his expression fell, lips thinning out into a tight, disdainful line. He instantly tensed as he watched the guy walk across the large hall, making a bee-line for them.

“Fuck,” Jeff cursed into the phone and clenched his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. He pointed a finger at Jared in warning. “Don’t say anything stupid, Jay, I fucking mean it. This guy’s looking for trouble so don’t—”

“Causing another ruckus, Morgan?” The guard interrupted them before any of them had a chance to say more. The guy bowed down to be at Jeff’s eye level, slapping the palm of his hand threateningly with his baton. “Guess the last lesson I taught you didn’t take. Need me to refresh your memory?”

And suddenly it all made perfect sense. Jared had naively thought that Jeff had gotten into a brawl with other inmates, maybe an ex-member of a rivaling gang but this son of a bitch in a uniform made it pretty clear that there were far worse enemies to be had in a prison than fellow criminals.

Rage welled up in him hot and fast, his fingers clamped down so hard on the phone he could hear the plastic cracking. He fixed the guard with a murderous glare, wondering if the fucker would still be wearing that smug grin on his lips if Jared gave him a fucking taste of his own medicine. 

“You get off on beating people who can’t defend themselves?” Jared let out in a vicious growl, unable to hold his anger back. “What is this, some kind of repressed childhood trauma you’re trying to work through? Did your daddy touch you in a bad place? Or is it just the size of your dick you’re compensating for?”

Jared had never seen someone rise to the bait this easily. The guard’s expression shifted from smug to annoyed to hell-bent-on-making-Jared’s-life-hell in the span of a few seconds.

“Guess the rebellious streak runs in the family,” the guard hissed into Jeff’s ear, forcing Jeff’s chin up with his baton. His furious eyes were glued to Jared, though. Good.

Jeff looked like he wanted to kick Jared’s ass for being so stupid.

“You.” The guard pointed at Jared and Jensen. “You’re both coming with me.”

Jared’s stomach dropped. Gaining some asshole prison guard’s attention was one thing, but he hadn’t wanted for Jensen to get involved. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

The guard spat a glob of spittle to the dirty prison floor and gestured towards one of his colleagues at the other end of the hall, ignoring Jared’s words completely.

“I want these two in custody. Now!”

  


 

The strip search was a necessary evil for every prisoner at Cedar Junction, but it was rarely this invasive and almost never carried out with visitors. Usually, visitors were only frisked before they entered the facilities, but Kotter was happy to make an exception for the likes of Morgan and his bastard fucker of a son.

Kotter locked the door of the holding room and gave his two guests a slow once-over. Morgan’s son looked like he was going to rip Kotter’s throat out with his bare _teeth_ , his whole body was inked and made of pure muscle. Judging from the way he stood slightly in front of the other guy, his whole posture screaming ‘touch-him-and-die’, it wasn’t hard to figure out their relationship status.

Kotter smiled.His sadistic streak ran way too high for him to pass up an opportunity like this.

“You two married? Or just fucking?”

Kotter knew that they weren’t married, if not by the lack of a wedding band on their fingers, then by the mandatory entry in the visitor’s record. He also knew that Morgan’s son was no other than Jared fucking Padalecki, the self-declared leader of the so-called ‘Black Legion’. Kid had more skeletons in the closet than Charlie fucking Manson and yet he thought he could waltz in here and run his goddamn mouth without getting in trouble for it.

“Not in the mood to talk?” Kotter asked and then pulled his gun from his holster. He just held it in his palm for a moment, enjoying the way the boys both tensed at the sight. “Fine. That’s not what you’re here for, anyway.”

“What are we here for, then?” Jared growled, his eyes spitting fire across the room.“Last I checked you can’t arrest someone without a goddamn reason.”

“You’re not under arrest… just in a whole lot of trouble,” Kotter said and then focused his gaze on the fairer-haired of the two. Guy couldn’t be older than twenty-four, twenty-five. With the long, girly lashes and the pouty mouth, he would look a whole lot like Angelina Jolie to anyone with a dick within a twenty-mile radius. Pretty twink like him? Wouldn’t make it a week in this godforsaken shithole without ending up getting fucked against the shower stall.

Jared kept on glaring, almost as if he could read his thoughts. Kotter just rolled up the sleeves of his uniform with a gleeful smile on his lips. He would teach Padalecki a lesson he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“You,” Kotter pointed his gun at Pretty-boy and gestured for him to step forward. “I want you over here by the wall, feet at shoulder width.”

Pretty-boy shot a questioning look toward Jared and Kotter’s patience snapped.

“Now!” he barked and the boy flinched before reluctantly moving toward the wall.

Kotter didn’t give him a chance to get in position, just kicked the guy’s legs apart and slammed him up against the wall harder than necessary, eliciting a sharp gasp from him in response. From the corner of his eyes, Kotter saw Jared’s reaction, saw the way he shot forward with an angry sneer on his face, ready to intervene, but Kotter whipped out his gun, pointing it at the gang leader in warning. “Down, boy.”

The tall bastard instantly froze but judging from his tension-filled posture and the way his whole body seemed to bristle with the need to jump in, Kotter couldn’t allow himself to get carried away. If he let his guard down around that fucking Padalecki kid, he’d be dead, that much was for sure. Kotter had no doubt that he was capable of committing murder, which was why he should be in one of these prison cells along with Morgan in the first place.

There would be no greater torture for this Jared guy than to watch his boyfriend get felt up publically and Kotter was intent on using the situation to his advantage. Those bikers always thought of themselves as tough and indestructible, but they were human, too, and they had human weaknesses. And Jared’s weakness? It was offered to him on a silver platter.

“You got any sharp objects on you?” Kotter asked the kid, still pinning him against the wall.

“No,” Pretty-boy answered breathlessly when Kotter’s hands started patting up and down his jeans legs, getting close and personal with the kid’s crotch and enjoying the way he squirmed and flushed in embarrassment

“Starting to think I should have brought one, though,” the kid bit out.

“What’s that?” Kotter spun him around, knocking his head back against the wall. He pressed his forearm against the kid’s windpipe, preventing escape and slightly constricting the airway. “You trying to threaten me?”

Pretty-boy tried to keep his breathing calm, pupils blown wide with fear. Kotter could feel the guy’s heart racing from how close their bodies were. “You do know the term _strip search_ requires you to take your clothes off, right?”

The boy’s cheeks flushed in humiliation and Jared snapped into action with a low growl. “I swear to fucking god if you _touch_ him—“

“Shut up,” Kotter pointed his gun at Jared in warning, his other arm still firmly pressed against the boy’s throat, pinning him to the wall. “One more word from you, Padalecki, and I’ll make sure that the next one who’s undressing your _boyfriend_ , is the guy who’s make him his prison bitch, you understand me?”

It would be easy, too. All Kotter had to do was whip up a story about drugs they were trying to smuggle inside the prison or something. When it came to the likes of Morgan and Padalecki, nobody really gave a shit about whether they were truly guilty or not.

Jared slammed his mouth shut, his entire body coiled with bristling fury, fingers curled so tight it must have hurt. He was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring, his shoulders wide enough to make him look even bigger than his already impressive size.

“Now back to you,” Kotter refocused his attention on the guy he had pinned against the wall. “What’s your function in the gang, huh?”

“He’s not part of the gang!” Jared growled out through clenched teeth.

“That so, huh?” Kotter asked and pulled the younger boy’s plain grey T-shirt down.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Pretty-boy hissed, trying to fend off Kotter’s hands, trying to pull his shirt back in place, but he wasn’t fast enough. Kotter had already spotted the edge of what looked like bandage beneath. He captured the man’s wrists with one hand, pinning them down against the wall before he shoved the shirt back down with the muzzle of his gun.

“Now would you look at that,” Kotter tsked. He sent a look back over his shoulder at Jared, only to find the gang leader’s eyes wide open in shock. A myriad of emotions flickered across those hazel eyes before his jaw muscle clenched and his features warped into something cold and unreadable. It occurred to Kotter that Jared might have never seen that brand-new piece of ink before. He smirked and tapped the sore skin with the muzzle of his gun, enjoying the way the kid winced in obvious discomfort. “Matching tats, huh? How _romantic_.”

“ _Screw you._ ” The guy glared up at Kotter with untempered fury, his green eyes ablaze with a fire that Kotter hadn’t given him credit for.

“Oh, trust me, boy,” Kotter leaned in to hiss into Jensen’s ear. “If I wanted to screw you, I’d have done so already. Lucky for you, I’m not into that sort of shit.”

He let go of the guy’s wrist and took a step back just when the door to the holding cell was suddenly yanked open, causing all three of them to whirl around in surprise.

“James, there you are!” One of his colleagues stuck his head through the doorway, a frown forming on his face when he took in the scene - Jensen with his rumpled shirt and flushed cheeks, Kotter standing close to him with his gun drawn. And Jared with his chest puffed out and shoulders wide, his entire body filled with enough tension to set the room on fire. “What are you doing? Are these guys being detained?”

Kotter sighed and tucked his gun away. No point in losing his goddamn job over a pair of fucking fairies. He gave Jared one last look in warning. “You mouth off to me again and I swear I’ll see to it that you both land in a cell next to Morgan, you hear me?”

Padalecki glared at him, one hand wrapped around his boyfriend’s arm as he pulled him behind himself, taking up a protective stance before him. He didn’t seem quite as cocky anymore, the rebellious streak suddenly gone.

Kotter smiled, satisfied with the way Jared silently fumed with rage, unable to do anything without getting himself- or his boy- in trouble.

“Mark my words,” Kotter pointed a finger at Padalecki in warning.

He slammed the door shut on his way out.

  


 

Jared took his curves sharp and fast, bordering on suicidal, breaking every speed-limit with reckless abandon. His whole body was rigid against Jensen’s chest as he went as fast as the Harley would take him, putting as much distance between them and the prison as possible. He barreled around another corner and then, just a few miles outside of Cedar Junction, Jensen heard the screech of braking tires on asphalt.

Jared had pulled up on the side of a desolate dirt road that carved its way through a line of trees. Jensen dared a quick scan of the area; there were no approaching vehicles or suspicious looking people on the street anywhere around them.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he peeled himself from the seat behind Jared.

The question was stupid. They both knew why Jared had stopped. He was bristling with anger, about to fucking let loose and he didn’t want to have this conversation in a house full of people, didn’t want for Kelly to hear them when they traded blows.

“The fuck’s it look like, huh?” Jared snapped and kicked at a nearby stone with enough force to send it flying into the woods. His cheeks were flushed with how upset he was, with how genuinely _pissed_ , and Jensen was kind of surprised they’d made it this far without some kind of fallout.

The warmth that had been in Jared’s eyes when they’d had breakfast this morning was gone now, completely evaporated from his eyes. The softness in his gaze- the _affection_ , gone faster than the summer rain on hot tarmac. It occurred to Jensen, then, that he had crossed some invisible line by getting that tattoo without consulting Jared first.

His heart hammered erratically in his chest. He was never afraid of Jared. His anger always burned hot and fast. But there was a certain sense of unease he felt when Jay got like this… when he went stone cold, expression turned to ice. It isolated him from his friends, his family, turned him into a different, colder version of himself. Jensen knew that it was pointless to reason with Jared when he got like this- words would bounce off of him as good as hard rain.

“Why?” Jared demanded through clenched teeth. “Why the fuck would you do that, huh?”

His dark stare was enough to get under Jensen’s skin, to make his stomach sink. He could feel the anger coming off of Jared in waves, watched the way Jared’s fingers curled into fists by his side, tendons sticking out beneath the skin. He probably should have felt intimidated but Jensen knew why Jared was doing this, why he was acting the way he was. He’d been with Jared long enough to read between the lines, to see the untempered fire for the _fear_ it really was.

And Jensen didn’t know how to put into words just how _important_ this was for him. This wasn’t about aesthetics. It wasn’t even really about the gang. It was about _them_. About how they were in this together as a team, no matter what. As far as Jensen was concerned, this was the furthest they were ever going to get to ‘til death does us apart’.

“Do you have any idea what this could _cost_ you?” Jared asked. “Everyone will take one damn look at you and know that you are one of us! They’ll look at you and see a criminal, Jensen, a drug dealer, an _enemy._ The cops will be on your case, other club members will come after you, you could lose your fucking job if anyone sees this! This isn’t a fucking joke, Jensen. This is _permanent_.”

“Don’t you think I fucking know that?” Jensen countered heatedly, not willing to back down. “I know what I signed up for, Jay. Those other gangs? The cops? They already make me their target, simply because I'm with you. This tattoo changes _nothing_ and you fucking know it.”

Jared’s expression softened for a second, before he drew his protective walls up, features turning cold like stone. “You’ve got no idea what this means. What it could cost you.”

“What, Jay? What do you think I might lose? My life? My virtue? _My sanity?_ ” Jensen asked, the words dripping with sarcasm. “I hate to break it to you, but those flew out of the window on the day I met you.”

Jared flinched back from the words, some of the anger leaving his eyes and getting replaced by a deep, deep ache, the kind that had festered for a long time. “I never wanted for you to get caught up in any of this!”

“And I know that. Believe me, I do,” Jensen said. “But I _did_ get involved and I’m okay with that.” Jensen took a step closer, staring intensely up at Jared as he continued. “I regret nothing, Jay. None of it. Not falling in love with you, not the warehouse and what happened in it, cause in the end, it all led to us being together, to us having Kelly. Something _good_ actually came out of this.”

Jared snorted. “Like a phoenix rising from the ashes?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jensen agreed with a soft smile. He closed the gap between their bodies easily, stepping up so that they were almost chest-to-chest and basking in Jared’s body heat, in his _presence_. Something shifted in Jared’s expression then, but Jensen couldn’t quite place it. Slowly, tentatively, Jared reached for the hem of Jensen’s shirt and pulled it aside, revealing the clean, see-through bandage made of cellophane wrap that covered Jensen’s brand-new tattoo. From this distance, Jensen could see the way Jared’s pupils widened, the way his eyes took on a dark, possessive glint.

And there was it again, the tightness of air molecules. The flutter of butterfly wings in his belly. Jensen was wearing Jared’s mark now, he was showing the whole goddamn world that they belonged together- that he was _Jared’s._

Now that Jared seemed to realize it, he was looking at Jensen like he never had before, with a slow, deliberate drag up and down Jensen’s body that was as hot as it was terrifying.

“Like it or not, Jay, this phoenix is as much a part of me as it is of you.”

Jared just kept on staring at him, chest heaving, breath heavy and eyes wild.

“This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” he growled out, eventually.

“You sure about that?” Jensen asked. “I mean I hooked up with you, right?”

And that was it. Jared pulled Jensen in by the front of his shirt and claimed his mouth with such _possession_ that it sucked the air from his lungs.

 

 

The kiss left Jensen dazed and breathless, but Jared wasn’t done with him yet. Running his hands down Jensen’s back, Jared grabbed him by the back of his thighs and hitched him up against his waist. He backed them up against the Harley before setting Jensen down on the bike’s seat. Jensen shifted back slightly, straddling the bike, the new position on the elevated fuel tank making him almost taller than his boyfriend.

Jared reached over Jensen’s shoulder to turn the key in the ignition of the Harley, causing the motorcycle to hum to life,  four hundred rpm of pure power, vibrating beneath him like an untamed beast trapped in a shell of shiny chrome.

Jensen shivered at the sensation and Jared took it as encouragement. He slipped one hand under Jensen’s shirt, undoing Jensen’s belt buckle with the other. The brush of fingers over his half-hard cock just tantalizing enough to bring Jensen all the way to hardness under the purposeful downward tug of his zipper.

“Jay,” Jensen murmured, voice barely audible over the sound of the bike’s engine. He was surprised that he managed to speak coherently with how dazed he felt, and they hadn’t even started yet.

“Anyone could just—” he groaned when Jared’s strong hand wrapped around his straining cock, giving it a firm stroke. “Hold on. A-anyone could just drive by.”

“You gonna pretend you don’t get off on this?” Jared said, voice rough with want and arousal. There was a dark glint in his eyes, a near-black spark of untamed desire. He nipped at Jensen’s neck, hard enough to make it sting. “Pretend you don’t like to be seen like this- getting fucked hard and rough in the middle of the road?”

There were times where Jensen couldn’t believe Jared’s dirty mouth. The man was like stone on his better days, stoic and charismatic, chiseled face and hard jawline. But once he lost his composure, the filth that poured out of his boyfriend’s lips never failed to get Jensen hard in the span of seconds. He never felt more wrung out, more owned than when Jared took control like this. When his rough words rolled through him, ghosting over the sweaty peaks and valleys of his body, lodging in the base of his skull and in the tip of his cock.

“You’re mine, aren’t you, baby?” Jared husked into his ear. “Mine for everyone to see.”

Jensen bucking his hips up into Jared’s hold, where he suddenly stopped stroking Jensen and tightened his fingers around his aching shaft. Fucking bastard.

“You’re going to beg me to bend you over that bike and pump you so full of come that when I pull out, you’ll leak,” Jared growled and Jensen’s whole body shuddered. He canted his hips up when Jared picked up a renewed pace, fisting his dick with sure, steady strokes.

“Jesus,” he rasped out with a desperate little shudder. “Stop talking and fucking get to it.”

Jared laughed at that, because he was an asshole. He leaned back and ran his hooded eyes over Jensen, tracking his entire body from head to toe. Jensen could only guess what a mess he must have made with his flushed cheeks and the puffy, kiss-swollen lips, his cock jutting out of the opening of his jeans, hard and leaking.

“So desperate for it,” Jared smirked, scooting backward on the seat. He slapped his palm against Jensen’s hips demandingly. “Lift up.”

Jensen did as he was told and Jared made quick work of Jensen’s jeans, pulling them down roughly before yanking down Jensen’s boxers until they were pooling under Jensen’s exposed ass, undressing him just far enough to be able to fuck him.

Jensen flushed at the realization of how dirty this was. How downright filthy. It occurred to him that the only thing they had for lube in this place was motor oil which was definitely a no-go, but then he heard a shuffle and flinched when something cold and hard hit his stomach. He looked down to find a bottle of half-finished lube there and stared up at Jared with hooded eyes.

“The shirt. Take it off,” Jared ordered, his voice rough with lust. Jensen didn’t even think twice before obeying. Faster than should have been possible, he pulled the offending piece of clothing from his head, aware of Jared watching his every move.

Jared stepped forward, back into Jensen’s space and threaded his fingers through Jensen’s hair. He tilted Jensen’s head up and bent down to kiss him hard, his hands gripping Jensen’s bare thighs. Jensen pulled his knees up to his chest, breaking the kiss as he leaned back. Jared quickly slicked his fingers with lube before pressing them against his rim.

“Fuck,” Jensen panted against Jared’s lips. Jared’s middle finger easily breached him, the other following immediately after. “Can’t believe you brought lube to a fucking prison visit.”

Jared drove his fingers in all the way, and crooked them, pressing against that bundle of nerves that caused Jensen to gasp and arch up from the bike. “I’m gonna fuck you bare, mark you up on the inside. You like that thought, huh? Hanging off my dick?”

Jensen’s entire body stiffened at that- come, full, marked up- the words tumbled through his brain. His heart was hammering away in his chest, tripping over its own beat.

“Oh god, Jay,” Jensen moaned, driving his hips back against Jared’s hips and panting out,

“When did you get to be such a fucking pervert?” His voice was whiny, breath catching thickly in his throat. “Just fucking do it, c’mon.”

Jared responded by driving his fingers forward with a firm thrust, causing Jensen to gasp with an open mouth and arch off the seat. “Do what?”

Jensen fumbled with the handlebars of the bike, trying to keep his balance. “Put it in me.”

“Not good enough, baby.”

Jensen groaned and closed his eyes in frustration, cheeks flaming. As vocal as he normally was, there was just something about being spread open and naked, begging Jared to fuck him on the side of an abandoned road that had him tongue-tied. “Please.”

“Give me a sentence, baby.”

Jensen bucked his hips up helplessly. “Please fuck me.”

“Not too hard, was it?” Jared chuckled as he spread Jensen’s cheeks and circled his rim with the head of his dick before finally- fucking finally- pushing inside, breaching Jensen in one long, slow, glide.

It felt incredible, like fireworks and absolute perfection; exactly what Jensen had needed. He could feel every inch of Jared as he filled him, hard and hot and so big it felt like there wasn’t any part of their bodies that wasn’t connected. Jensen loved the sharp burn of his boyfriend’s dick opening him up wide and it all just got so much better because of the bike. The motorcycle engine was still going strong beneath them, running full power and Jensen could feel the shockwaves of pleasure it sent rumbling through his body, all the way down to where Jared was inside him. It made him all the more aware of the intrusion, almost felt like his cock was vibrating inside of him and that was like, next level shit right there.

Jensen moaned over the roar of the engine, legs hitched up high around Jared’s middle when Jared started fucking into him, movement limited by the fact that they were both straddling a motorcycle. The bike was rocking and bouncing on its tires and Jensen was strangely comfortable having Jared inside of him and four hundred pounds of hot steel beneath him. Jensen couldn’t remember the last time they were this unrestrained, not giving a fuck who saw them, letting the pleasure sounds fall unrepentant from their throats.

It wasn’t long before Jensen started to roll his own hips up to meet Jared’s thrusts. Just when they had worked up a good rhythm, Jared grabbed him by the hair, long fingers sliding along the curve of his scalp before gathering up a fist full of strands and yanking hard. Jensen gasped, almost losing his precarious balance, spine arching as Jared’s other hand slid down to grab his cock, jerking it with merciless strokes.

Jared rarely ever got this rough in bed. As sure as he was a possessive bastard and liked to stake his claim, it wasn’t like him to let loose so intensely. This right now? Jensen didn’t know if it was because of the tattoo or what had happened back at the prison- but fuck if he could say he wasn’t enjoying the result.

Whatever else he wanted to say was totally lost on Jensen when Jared suddenly ceased his movements and pulled out of Jensen. Which was so not okay. Jensen would have complained, but all his brain cells managed to utter was an impatient whimper. “Wha—”

Jared let go of Jensen’s hair and then- in a move that shouldn’t have been anatomically possible- flipped Jensen around on the bike and put a hand in between Jensen’s shoulder blades. He pressed him down, splaying him almost flat on his stomach. Jared shifted his weight behind him. He stepped onto the foot pedals of the bike and leaned over Jensen’s body to grip the handlebars as he started fucking Jensen harder and faster than before. The steady thrusts were over, replaced by a more frantic bucking of hips.

“You’re so good, baby. Taking it so pretty for me.”

“Jay,” Jensen gasped, fingers tightening around the handlebars. “ _God_ `”

Jared was hitting his prostate with ruthless accuracy and every goddamn muscle in Jensen’s body was on fire. Jared ran his hand over the tattoo on his left collarbone, tracing the outline of feathers while he nipped and licked at the nape of his neck, grazing his teeth over Jensen’s pulse point possessively.

“Wanna come, Jen?” The rough, husky tone in Jared’s voice ran over his overstimulated body like silk. “Want me to come inside of that tight little ass of yours? Fill you up good?”

“Y-yeah, Jesus, yes!” The words ripped out from Jensen’s throat in a rasp, tears starting to gather in his eyes when Jared pushed him over the edge with one more, violent thrust. Jensen came with a loud scream and a full-body shudder. His whole world blackened out for a second, mind overtaken by pleasure as he came all over the leather seat. Jensen clamped down hard around Jared, causing his rhythm to falter, hips stuttering to a halt as he reached his own climax. Jensen felt hotness shoot through his body as Jared came inside of him.

It felt like an eternity until Jared slumped and draped over him like a giant, hot blanket. When he was finally done, Jensen squirmed weakly beneath Jared’s muscled limbs, the slick skin of his neck suddenly ticklish beneath Jared’s ragged exhales.

Dazedly, Jared fumbled around for the ignition to turn off the engine before they ran out of gas. The shifting caused Jared to pull out where he had gone soft and Jensen let out a small noise of protest at the loss. He felt Jared’s fingers at his entrance then, sluggishly circling his hole and gathering up the come he was leaking with his fingertips. Jensen flushed at the realization that he had been fucked so hard he literally couldn’t tighten the loose muscle enough to keep the warm release inside of him.

“Mine,” Jared whispered into Jensen’s shoulder blade and the word caused the hair on his nape to prickle. Jensen closed his eyes when Jared wrapped his arm around him, Jared’s fingers tracing the feathers of the freshly inked tattoo on his chest.

“Yours,” he echoed.

Lying here with Jared’s body draped around him, Jared’s come inside him, Jared’s tattoo on his chest and his words curling around in his heart, the statement had never been truer.

 

Chris gave them a dirty smirk as soon as they came in the front door and Jensen wasn’t sure whether it was the rumpled clothes, the tousled hair, flushed cheeks or the slight limp in his step that gave them away.

“That was a long-ass visit to Cedar Junction, boys,” he teased, exchanging a knowing look with Chad from where they were playing poker at the kitchen table. A few empty beer bottles littered the floor and the furniture around them. Steve was stretched out on the recliner with a sleeping Kelly snuggled up against his chest.

“Didn’t know they allowed you to stay for longer than one hour at the time,” Katie chimed in from where she was lying with her head against Steve’s thigh, switching listlessly through the TV channels.

“Must be some new regulation or something,” Steve played along.

“ _Or something_.” Katie shot them a dirty grin across the room, wiggling her eyebrows.

Jensen rolled his eyes and walked past them, grabbing a couple of cold ones from the fridge and then pausing mid-movement when he realized what he was doing. Unwittingly, his gaze dropped down to his own belly and he cursed himself for his mistake.

“You good?” Jared slung an arm around his waist, fingers splayed beneath his navel. Jensen fidgeted beneath the touch, thinking about the child he was carrying, the baby Jared didn’t even know about. He put his own beer back down on the counter and turned around in Jared’s loose hold, looking up into his hazel eyes. Instead of answering, he got up on his tiptoes and pressed a soft, reassuring kiss to his lips.

After they’d gotten cleaned up and redressed on that dirty patch of road, Jared had brushed his fingers lightly over Jensen’s tattoo and stared into his eyes for a good minute without saying anything. _“You didn’t do it because of the scars, did you?”_ Jared had asked. _“Cause you know they never were anything but a sign of your strength to me.”_

Jared intensified the kiss, the beer totally forgotten and it wasn’t until Chris tossed a beer cap at them and called “Get a fucking room, you two!” that they broke apart again somewhat sheepishly, their foreheads still touching. Jensen bit his lower lip, a deep ache in his chest at the thought that he was keeping such a massive secret from his boyfriend.

“Are you gonna watch TV with us or what?” Katie asked from her spot on the couch.

“C’mon.” Jared tugged on Jensen’s hand, pulling him towards the couch.

 

 

The alleyway was darkness and the sour leftover relics of a hundred take-away meals. As Jack walked along the walls, he kicked the garbage with each stride. As he left the street, the lampposts cast his shadow like charcoal over the dirty cobblestone. From the apartments above him came disturbing noises, not so much as during the day but all the louder for the absence of light and traffic. Soon he noticed the yellow beams of the lampposts ahead, without a conscious thought the grip on the knife in his jacket pocket loosened, as did his muscles. But then he noticed the small group of people standing at the corner of the alleyway, safely hidden in the shadows of the night and his step faltered.

One of them stepped forward with confidence, two of his men flanking him on either side. Jack recognized Olsson and his brain kicked into panic-mode, racing for a way to get out. There were only three of them, maybe he could cut two of them down and be home in time for dinner. But Ty was a quick shot and the odds weren’t exactly on his side. He told himself to relax, not to show any fear as the Reapers slowly encircled him.

“Whatever you’re here for, I want nothing to do with it,” Jack shouldered past them, or tried to, anyway, but he didn’t get very far. The unmistakable click of a gun’s safety had Jack frozen in place, gritting his teeth to bite back a curse. He turned around slowly, only to find Ty’s dark eyes burning into him, a loaded gun trained on him in the shadows of the alleyway. His fingers curled uselessly around the butterfly knife in his jacket pocket. Talk about bringing a knife to a gunfight.

“Did you know that your brother was back in town, Jackie Boy?”

“He’s not my fuckin _brother_ ,” Jack sneered. “And I don’t give a fuck if he’s back in Boston or not. Whatever beef you two got doesn’t fucking involve me.”

“See, Jackie, that’s where you’re wrong,” Ty drawled out. “Cause last I checked you owe Diego, some money.”

“Yeah, well, last _I_ checked you weren’t Diego,” Jack growled out, throwing the words right back into Ty’s face. He wasn’t afraid of Ty and his fucking goons. These bastards could go and find someone else to terrorize. He was done with the gang business. It had cost him his job, his girl and his family. No way in hell would he let Olson drag him back into that mess. “And besides, I’ve been paying back my debts steadily. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You owed him twenty grand for crack,”  Ty stated matter-of-factly and pulled a crinkled pack of smokes from his jeans. He flipped open the lid and pulled a cigarette out with his mouth, all the while keeping his gun trained on Jack with his other hand. “And since Diego kicked the bucket, you owe that drug money to me, now.”

Jack felt his stomach drop a little at the words. For the first time since this whole encounter, he felt real fear for his life creep up his neck. The meaning behind Ty’s words was clear, if Diego had gone toes up, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that Ty had pulled the trigger. And that meant he was in more trouble than he might have thought.

“What do you want?” Jack asked through gritted teeth, fingers curling into fists.

Ty shrugged and lit up his cigarette, the flame flickering and dancing with the wind, casting shadows across the graffiti-smeared brick walls. “A small favor. A trifle, really.”

Jack stiffened, every muscle in his body tensing with apprehension. “I’m listening.”

“I want you to make amends with your brother,” Ty said, steam curling from his lips. “I want you to become Jared’s best friend, his loving brother, someone he trusts with his life.”

Ty smirked and it was an ugly grin, teeth flashing predatorily in the dark.

Jack’s face fell faster than a corpse in cement boots. His hung open with his lips slightly parted and his eyes were wide. There was no point trying to run, or pulling his knife. There were three well-armed gangsters that wouldn’t hesitate to break his neck if he didn’t play along. He had nothing to protect him but his empty words and sharp tongue. They had always been good enough up until now but somehow he didn’t think they would save his life this time. “You want me to sell Jared out?”

“I want you to infiltrate their little _family_ ,” Ty said darkly. “I want you to play hide and seek with his son, to become his boyfriend’s new BFF and I want you to report back to me with every little bit of information you can get out of them. Their next moves, their deepest fears, absolutely everything, you got that?”

Jack couldn’t help but snort at that. “And how the fuck do you think I’m gonna pull that off? Jay and I aren’t exactly close if you haven’t noticed."

"Look, I don't care how you do it," Ty took a step forward, his entire posture emanating threat and authority. “But I want his fucking head on a platter and you’ll be the one to help me with it."

The message was clear.

If Jack refused, he wouldn’t leave this alley breathing.

Left with no other choice, Jack swallowed and gave a tight nod. “Yeah, ok. I’ll do it.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this new chapter! If you did, comment below & let me know!!! Reviews make my day and keep me writing! :)
> 
> Major thanks go out to my betas, who both did a tremendous job at turning this chapter into something readable!! :D You guys ROCK!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings* for graphic descriptions of violence, blood loss, shock, injury, bad language, mpreg and mentions of miscarriage/pregnancy difficulties and eclampsia.

The sun hadn’t even begun to rise when Jensen woke up to the sensation of pain searing through his abdomen. He curled up in bed, one arm automatically shooting to his middle as he squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to minimize the spinning of the room around him.

The pain wasn’t anything like the dull throb he had felt a couple of days ago. This time it was acute and narrowed down to a point in his abdomen like someone was digging their elbow into his stomach. Jensen uncurled from beneath the blanket, trying not to rouse the sleeping toddler next to him. Kelly continued breathing evenly and Jensen padded across the floor, thankful that the four-year-old hadn’t stirred. He slipped into the bathroom and closed the door before another wave of pain hit him full-force, causing him to pitch forward, mouth dropped open in a mute scream.

“What the…” It was the only thing he managed to get out before he slammed his head back against the door and dissolved into rapid panting. “Ugh. _Oh god_.”

His head was swimming, his thoughts clouded by fear as they circled around one thing and one thing only.

This wasn’t normal.

Something was wrong.

Jensen snuck out of the house and locked himself in the garage before hitting the call button on his cell phone. It rang for a long time before a tired voice came from the speaker. _“Hello?”_

Jensen bit his lower lip. “Alona. It’s me.”

There was a heavy pause on the other end. Jensen half-expected for her to hang up on him.

_“Jensen? It’s half past five in the morning. I haven’t heard from you in years.”_

Jensen lowered his head, sensing the bitterness in her words. It was pretty clear that Alona didn’t approve of his relationship with Jared and after they’d moved to New Haven, Jensen had thought it would be best for them to go their separate ways. “I know, Al. I’m sorry.”

 _“Save it,”_ Alona said, sounding tired. _“Just tell me what you need.”_

It stung a bit to hear the accusation in her tone, but it hurt even more to admit that he deserved it. Alona had helped them out a lot when all of this had started. And how had Jensen thanked her for it? By using her feelings for him to his own advantage.

He let out a soft sigh, voice tinged with regret. “Listen, Al…”

 _“Please,”_ Alona cut him bitterly. _“Not one word from you in over four years and now you call me at five thirty in the morning, stammering out some half-assed apology. Why don’t you do us both a favor and tell me what this is about.”_

Jensen took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Fair enough.”

Maybe they’d eventually get the chance to work things out, but right now Jensen needed Alona’s medical verdict. He needed her professional opinion on something important and he hoped that they weren’t too estranged to get it.

Jensen ran a hand through his hair from root to tip. “The scar tissue related to my gunshot wound, do you think it could cause complications during pregnancy?”

It was the first time he’d allowed himself to voice the worries that had gnawed on him every minute of every minute of every day since he’d taken the pregnancy test. He could sense that something was wrong. He knew it, deep down inside and he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge it. He had selfishly clung to the hope that if he just kept on pretending that things were alright, they would be. He hadn’t dared to go to a physician because then it would become real, the truth of what was happening undeniable. It was irrational and stupid and Jensen hated himself for being so irresponsible, for further endangering his unborn child by ignoring the severe symptoms he was experiencing, but he couldn’t help it. He was scared out of his mind. Scared of having another baby, of making himself even more of a target than he already was, scared of dragging another innocent life into this whole mess. But most of all, he was scared of Jared’s reaction, of being pushed away or sent back to New Haven. Jay was hot-headed on his best day, but if he knew that Jensen was _pregnant_ , his protective instincts would go haywire. He would be ruthless, lethal… distracted. It wasn’t something Jensen was willing to risk.

_“Jensen. Are you trying to tell me that you’re…?”_

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut, twisting the light brown strands between his fingers.

“I keep feeling this pain in my abdomen, especially the upper right section. It feels like something’s slicing through my insides and I--” Jensen caught his lower lip between his teeth, breathing sharply through his nose. “I think something’s _wrong_ with it, Alona. Like _seriously wrong_ and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do, Al. I just--”

 _“Alright, take a deep breath,”_ Alona instructed, her voice calm and gentle now, all-business-like. This was her being a professional. This was her taking charge of the operation and god, but it felt so fucking good to have finally told someone. _“Where are you right now? I’ll take you to the clinic.”_

“You can’t pick me up,” Jensen shook his head.  “If Jay sees you he’ll ask questions.”

 _“Okay,”_ Alona was quick to soothe him. _“I’ll park around the corner, then. Just… drink some water, put on a jacket and shoot me the address, alright? I’ll be there as fast as I can.”_

Jensen hung up with a heavy sigh. He took a minute to send Alona the address before he slipped the phone back into his jeans and exited the garage.

He found Jared in the living room, sitting on a window sill, with dark circles under his eyes and a steaming cup of black coffee in his hands. There was a gun in his lap and Jared’s head perked up when Jensen walked in. “You okay?” Jared asked, a small frown on his features. “The hell are you doing up at five-thirty?”

Jensen walked up to his boyfriend and leaned in for a chaste kiss, savoring the taste of coffee that clung to Jared’s lips.

“Hey,” he sighed and pulled back again, just far enough to watch the amber specks in Jared’s eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”

The worried look on Jared’s face intensified, his frown deepening. He slipped his arm around Jensen’s middle and pulled him closer. “Nightmare?” he asked softly.

Jensen shook his head, licking his bottom lip. He had never been particularly good at lying, especially when it came to Jared. “The fight I had with Tommy,” Jensen started. “The things I said to him... I was outta line. It just keeps replaying in my mind. Over and over again.”

“We all say shit we don’t mean when we’re angry, Jen,” Jared sad.

It was amazing how gentle Jared could be, especially given what he was capable of. Jensen remembered the way Lucian’s face had looked after Jared was done with him in that warehouse. He remembered the spatter of blood on Jared’s face and the lethal expression in his near-black eyes. The memories still sent a chill down his spine, even years later.

“I know,” Jensen sighed. “But I still need to get things sorted out with him.”

Jared looked at him for a long moment before he nodded. Jensen wanted to think that he didn’t need anyone’s fucking consent to go out. But in theory, they both knew that Jared would blow a fuse if Jensen just disappeared without a word. Especially given their situation.

“Want me to tag along?” Jared offered as if in hindsight.

Jensen smiled at him. “You wanna help me sort things out with Tommy?”

They both knew that ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the arguments Tom and Jensen had had somehow boiled down to Jared. Even to this day, after everything they had lived through, Tom  believed that Jensen deserved better. So if Jensen had really intended to go and talk to Tom, bringing Jared along for the ride would have been like adding gasoline to the fire.

“Yeah, maybe not,” Jared huffed out with a rueful smile on his lips. He reached up to cup Jensen’s face, his thumb gently brushing over the scatter of freckles on Jensen’s pale cheek. “Be careful,” he said before he pressed their mouths together for one more kiss.

The chaste brush of lips was bittersweet and Jensen pulled away with guilt in his heart. “I will.”

 

 

Jensen lay there quietly, matching his breath to the tiny tympanic heartbeat from the ultrasound wand, the only outward sign of the new life that had spurred within him.

Nervous curiosity slowly pried his green eyes open to the view of a magnolia colored clinic room with a plasma screen on the wall.

His gaze slid to where the doctor was frowning at the screen. Jensen could tell from her expression that something was bothering her and it made him sick with worry. “What are you seeing?”

The doctor gave him a tight smile that was ninety-five percent bullshit. Jensen knew that particular smile better than anyone. It was the same expression the doctors at the hospital wore when they had to deliver bad news.

“Something’s wrong with it, isn’t it?”

The doctor moved the transducer back and forth over Jensen’s belly, spreading the cool gel across his flat abdomen until the picture on the screen in front of them became clearer. And there it was, just as perfect as when Jensen saw Kelly for the first time- their baby, barely more than a blur of colors, a bunch of cells, really. Jensen felt tears sting his eyes as he looked at it. God, how he wished Jared would be here right now, squeezing his hand.  

“You’re seven weeks along,” the doctor said. “The heartbeat is steady but it seems that the embryo is a bit underdeveloped. It could be due to poor nutrition or stress. Genetics could play a role, as well.”

Jensen grimaced. He knew the stress wasn’t doing him any favors but there were other things he was more worried about. “I got shot about five years ago. Do you think the scarring could influence the baby’s development?”

The topic had come up before, when he was pregnant with Kelly. But back then, he’d been fine if you didn’t count the way he’d puked his guts out every other morning. The doctors had told him that was lucky. And now it seemed that his luck had run out.

“It’s hard to say,” the doctor paused for a moment. “I was rather thinking along the lines of--”

“Preeclampsia,” Jensen concluded. This had been his worst fear, the worst case scenario. It was a pregnancy disorder that often led to seizures and in the worst case, miscarriage.

“It’s impossible to tell at such an early stage of the pregnancy. Right now, I would call it gestational hypertension,” the doctor explained. “We’re going to have to do some more tests, check your blood pressure and urine levels. Then we’ll know more.”

“That’s not gonna cut it.” Jensen glared at the doctor. “What about a Doppler scan? The bullet nicked my kidney. Injuries like that can mess with the blood clotting functions of the placenta and the blood flow to the baby’s heart.”

“I’m sure you don’t want to explain my own job to me, Mr. Ackles.” The doctor gave him another one of those distant smiles that professionals gave. Jensen couldn’t help but feel more annoyed by it the second time. He wanted a _genuine_ face, preferably a reassuring smile, but if he couldn’t have that, he’d rather she didn’t fake it.

“I’m a physician myself,” he replied. “And I’m sure you’ll understand that where _my child_ is concerned, I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

Her eyes were devoid of any emotion when she gave Jensen a look, her black hair pulled back in a tight bun, not a strand out of place.

Alona hovered two feet behind her, her lips pressed into a grim line and her brows knitted. She hadn’t said a word since Jensen had asked her to stay for the examination, looking slightly uncomfortable as she lingered close. Now, however, she stepped forward, resting a hand on Jensen’s shoulder.

“Nina,” she addressed the doctor, quietly, almost as if to try and soothe her. “Jensen has experienced nausea and abdominal cramps. Maybe a Doppler scan wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Just to cover our bases.”

The doctor sighed and moved away from Jensen, setting the transducer aside and wiping the residual gel off Jensen’s stomach. “Fine,” she said. “But even if we spot anything during the scan, I’ll have to wait for the other test results to make a prognosis. It would be reckless to draw any premature conclusions. The last thing you need right now is more stress.”

Jensen almost laughed out loud at that.

If only she knew.

“Over the course of the next month, you’ll have to get checked out regularly in order to keep close track on the fetal growth and amniotic fluids,” the doctor recited. “To help prevent further risk, I’d recommend for you to go on bed rest to try and lower your blood pressure.”

“What about the scan?” Alona threw in and Jensen shot her a look of thanks.

“I’ll arrange everything for tomorrow,” the physician went on. “Jensen can come by the clinic in the morning and I’ll do the scan. Until then, I’d say he just needs to rest. The baby’s vitals are strong, which is a good sign. Seems like you’ve got yourself a fighter, there, Mr. Ackles.”

Jensen smoothed his shirt back over his stomach, palm lingering there for a moment.

Despite the scariness of the situation, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

If his seven-week-old, pea-sized bundle of cells was fighting, Jensen would be fighting, too.

He’d fight like hell.

 

 

The thing with being ‘back in the scene’ was that it was a vicious circle. With the Black Legion now back in the field, they needed weapons and ammo and there were only so many places in South Boston where you could get those. After all, the local gun suppliers weren’t all too happy to sell to them, after they’d basically ruined the market by smuggling guns over the Mexican border. So Jared had to go looking elsewhere.

“I expanded since you last saw me a few years ago. Word got out about ye guys being out of business. Turns out ye’ left quite the underground followin’ in yer wake,” Ian explained as he walked them through a basement stocked with firearms. Jared and Chris kept their eyes on the walls lined with impressive armory before Ian came to a halt. “Preferred customers like you select from me personal reserve.”

With that, the guy pulled out a black case from behind a counter. Jared and Chris stood on the other side of the counter to get a closer look. They exchanged a brief glance before opening the case. Jared’s heart kicked up with excitement at the sight of what was hidden inside the case.

“Are those…?”

“Real Desert Eagles,” Ian confirmed with a smirk.

Jared lifted one of the guns and held it in his hand to test its weight. The cool steel rested heavily in his palm as he pointed the oversized muzzle at a point somewhere above Ian’s shoulder. “How much?” Jared raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, no. Ye’ boys are on the house,” the gun dealer assured. “If I can help ye’ tear those sons of bitches down, then that’s payment ‘nough.”

Jared exchanged a quick look with Chris before putting the gun back down in the case and closing it. He could only imagine what Ty must have done to the guy to make him team up with Jared and his gang. If word hit the street that he worked with the Black Legion, there’d be hell to pay. It could cost him his neck

“Go raibh maith agat,” Jared said and held out a hand to the man.

The dealer looked at him in surprise before he grabbed Jared’s hand with a genuine smile.

“Tá fáilte romhat.”

 

 

“Dude, what’s with the languages?” Chris asked as soon as they had stored the new guns and ammo in the back of Chris’ SUV. “You speak fucking Irish now?”

Jared shrugged and slammed the trunk shut, making sure it was locked. “Picked up a few words here and there. Just enough to get around.”

If there was one thing that Jared had learned growing up in an Irish neighborhood, it was that there was no faster way to win an Irish person’s trust than to speak their language, and since they needed every bit of support they could get, it couldn’t hurt to make friends in the community.

They crossed the street to an alluring little irish pub. Jared rested his hand on the chipped paintwork that coated the door to a bar called ‘McStaggers’. Shards of blue paint crumbed to the floor and hinges squealed as they made their entrance. Inside, laughter overpowered the sounds coming from the jukebox. Conversation swirled around the room in a dirty cloud of stale cigarette smoke and the stagnant stench of drinks wafted over them. Jared took a deep breath, allowing his lungs to fill with the biting scent of whiskey and nicotine as he made a beeline for the bar and ordered two beers. There was nothing like a crowded irish pub in a shady alleyway of South Boston.

“Like coming home, huh?” Chris smirked, smacking his hand down hard on Jared’s neck and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“Get off me, fucker.” Jared shoved Chris hard enough to send him sliding off his bar stool. Chris took it in stride, chuckling when Jared wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.

The waitress served their beers and Chris gave her a leer that bordered on creepy. He ogled her ass as she bowed over the counter to take orders from another patron.

“Reign it in, man,” Jared said, shaking his head a little. “You’re drooling.”

“Easy for you to say,” Chris grumbled. “You’re getting laid every night, while I’m dying of blue balls.”

“Yeah, remind me why that is, again?” Jared asked, taking a sip of his beer and then turning to face Chris. “Took a hell of a lot of luck for a guy like you to score a girl like Danneel. Wanna tell me how you fucked that up?”

Chris shot him a glare over the rim of his beer glass.

“It just didn’t pan out how we’d expected, alright?” There was a rough undertone to Chris’ voice, like it still hurt him to open up about it, which was exactly why Jared couldn’t let it go.

“Did she cheat on you?” Jared asked, almost casually.

That sure as fuck got Chris’ attention. He whipped his head around, shooting Jared a scowl.

“What the fuck, man? No, she didn’t. Why the hell would you think that?”

Jared shrugged and counted Chris’ reaction a win. If he had had any doubt that Chris wasn’t over Danneel, his blatant outrage at the suggestion that she could have been with another man would have proven him wrong. It was written all over his face, how much he still cared about her, how much he hated the idea of her with anyone else but himself.

“Then why the fuck did you let her go?”

“We were just too different, man,” Chris said. “She made me meet her _parents_ , Jay. Can you imagine it? Her daddy in a goddamn suit ‘n tie, staring at me like I’m the worst scum to graze the earth. He pulled me aside halfway-through the evening and told me he’d done some research… about me. That he knew about the drug dealing, the theft, the aggravated assault. He knew everything about my past.”

Jared locked his jaw and shook his head with a bitter huff, already expecting what came next. “Let me guess. He told you to stay away from her.”

“And he was right to say it,” Chris gave back defensively. “Fucking look at me, man. I’m just over thirty and my whole life is laid out for me. I got no chance getting a decent job or a real education. I got no money to my name and now with Ty and the Reapers stirrin’ up trouble, I’m basically a dead man walkin’. It would never work out between us, man. Not in the long run.”

Jared made eye contact with the waitress and held up two fingers, mouthing ‘whiskey’. He wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to have this conversation, but he knew Chris needed it, so he ordered them something to obliterate three days of tension and a really stupid break-up.

He swirled the whiskey in his glass, listening to the chinking of ice cubes before chugging most of the liquid back on an empty stomach. Then he closed his eyes, feeling the tension of the day beginning to fade. For just one moment, he allowed his shoulders to relax. For one hour or two, while they were in this pub, there was no gang war to fight, no kid to worry over, there was just aged single-malt direct from Ireland. And the two of them, sharing a long-overdue conversation.

“Are you seriously gonna use that argument with me? With _me_ , of all people?” Jared asked after a moment. “That she’s too good for you? That you don’t wanna drag her into the life?”

“ _Jay_.” Chris sighed.

“I was willing to let Jensen go,” Jared continued, ignoring his friend’s half-hearted protest. “I was in fucking Mexico, willing to live a miserable life if only it meant that he could stay out of harm’s way and you guys were the ones to drag me back. You made me go after him, even when I had every goddamn reason in the world not to do so. And now you’re sitting here, telling me that you’re not gonna do the same for Danneel? That she’s better off without you?”

The irony was unbelievable.

Jared shook his head and drained the rest of his whiskey, waiting for the liquid to settle before he let the amber fluid burn down his throat.

“It was different with you,” Chris protested. “You guys are the real deal.”

“And you’re not?” Jared challenged. “Why? Because her strung-up douche of a father said so?”

Chris was suddenly quiet and Jared mentally cursed himself for letting loose like this when he knew his friend was hurting. But sometimes that was the only thing that helped when you had your head stuck up your ass.

“Look,” he sighed. “Danneel knew what she was in for when you guys started dating. She doesn’t want the clean-cut John Doe with a nine-to-five job and a nice paycheck. For whatever fucking reason, she wants _you_. And whether she’s willing to put up with the life or not, well that’s up to her. It’s not your decision to make.”

Chris stared intently down at the gold-brown liquid in his glass and then drained it. “You know, sometimes I really can’t believe how much you’ve changed. Guess Jen really left his mark on you, huh?”

Jared looked down at his glass. He thought about the tattoo on Jensen’s chest, the black-feathered wings spread out across Jensen’s collarbone, identical to his own.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We left a mark on each other.”

 

 

Jensen had to hand it to her, for someone who was incredibly opinionated, Alona had managed to hold her tongue for quite a long time. She had sat in the driver’s seat, staring blankly out of the windshield and biting back whatever questions she had until, at some point, her patience finally snapped.

“Why haven’t you told Jared?”

There it was. The million-dollar-question.

Jensen slowly turned his head around to meet her questioning gaze, spotting the worry and the minor fraction of blame in her eyes. He knew where the blame stemmed from. Jensen was smart enough to realize that having stomach cramps wasn’t a good sign. Smart enough to get himself checked out by a doctor. And yet he had waited until the last possible second.

It wasn’t something Alona would simply let slide.

“I mean what are you even doing back in Boston? Aren’t you supposed to be in New Haven? And why the hell didn’t you go see a doctor, Jensen?”

If things hadn’t been so fucked up, Jensen would have smiled at the onslaught of questions. It had always been like that with Alona. Once the floodgates were opened, it was hard to close them again.

Jensen was about to respond when Alona passed by Chad’s house and he caught sight of something that took his voice away.

In the scrapyard by the garage were two foreign motorcycles that Jensen had never seen before. And while it wasn’t exactly like Jensen knew every single motorcycle Chad kept in the garage, he could still tell that there was something off about these bikes. They were apehangers, first of all, which was weird because neither of the guys liked to ride those. And they were kept in rather a bad shape too, with visible scratches on the varnish, which was probably the most obvious indication that these bikes didn’t belong to any of the gang members. Jared would never treat a motorcycle like that and he’d definitely never take it out in such poor condition. Nobody in the gang would.

“Alona, stop the car. Stop it, right _now,_ ” Jensen ordered and Alona hit the brakes, causing them both to fall forward into their seat belts.

“Jensen, what the hell?!” Alona exclaimed, but Jensen wasn’t listening. He had unbuckled his seatbelt and left the car before Alona even had a chance to idle the engine.

Crossing the street, Jensen pulled his phone from his jeans and pressed Jared’s number on speed dial. While the metallic rings filled his ear, Jensen’s heart began thundering in his chest as he neared the back entrance of Chad’s scrap yard. The gate was hanging slightly askew in its framework, the heavy-duty padlock that used to be fastened around the steel bars of the gate had been pried open with pliers.

“ _Hey_ ,” Jared greeted on the third ring or so and a wave of crushing relief hit Jensen at the sound of his voice, that simple connection, even through the phone. _“I was just about to call you. Chris and I hit a pub and the guys just headed out to join us, so if you wanna--”_

“Is anyone still in the house?” Jensen cut Jared off, his voice laced with an urgency that sobered Jared up in an instant. Whatever buzz he’d been working up flew out of the proverbial window the second Jared heard the tension in Jensen’s voice.

_“Why? What’s going on?”_

“There’s two strange bikes in the backyard and it looks like someone broke into the house.”

Jared was silent for a second and then there was movement on the other line, hectic and fast and Jensen’s heart sank with dread because he knew what that meant. _“We’ll be there in ten. Do you have a gun on you?”_

“Is Kelly in there?” Jensen asked in a shaky voice, fearing the worst.

 _“Sandy stayed back with the kids,”_ Jared replied and there was a commotion in the back, the roar of a couple of motorcycles of what Jensen could only suspect was the guys, getting on their way back to the house. But Jensen didn’t care, his mind was spinning, his heart racing, his train of thoughts circling back to one thing only. Kelly was in there. Their son was in there with god knows whom and Jensen didn’t _have_ ten fucking minutes.

_“Jensen, listen to me. Do you have a gun on you? A knife? Anything?”_

Jensen stared over at Alona and then back at the house, heart jack-hammering in his chest.

He’d just come from the fucking obstetrician and no, he had not thought to bring a goddamn _gun_ to the clinic.

_“Jen? Jensen! Fucking talk to m--”_

“I’m going in.” Jensen cut Jared off and the ended the call, knowing full and well that Jared was going to pop a vessel over this once he got back to the house.

But that was ten minutes away and this was now.

And right now? Kelly was all that mattered.

“Jensen, what’s going on?” Alona approached him, looking worried.

“You need to leave,” Jensen said, not even sparing her a glance as he pocketed his phone and turned back toward the house.

“What? _Why?_ What the hell’s going on, Jensen?”

“Just go, alright?” Jensen snapped at her, making it an order. His eyes narrowed when she looked like she was going to protest. Her eyes flickered down to his stomach and Jensen knew what she was thinking. “Look, I’ll call you when this is over, but right now, I need you to fucking _leave._ ”

She looked at him incredulously for another second or two. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” she asked. “You’ve literally just been told that you might lose your _kid_ , Jensen.”

Jensen felt numb as her words fully sank in, he felt numb because he couldn’t allow himself to feel anything else in that moment.

“Just _go_ ,” he said and turned toward the house.

 

 

Jensen found himself staring at the door that was left ajar, a beam of white light illuminating the wintry Boston air. He slipped in, tiptoeing through the foyer and stopping at the foot of the staircase when he heard voices drifting down from a room upstairs.

He could hear Sandy, but he couldn’t make out any exact words. She was arguing with someone, a guy. One of the kids was crying in the background and it took everything inside Jensen not to go bolting up the stairs.

But he couldn’t. He needed to be smart about this.

Judging from the number of bikes in the backyard he was outnumbered on top of being _unarmed_ and that meant he only had the element of surprise to work in his favor.

What had Jay always said to him during training? _‘You let emotions control your actions and rush into things half-cocked.’_

Yeah, well, not this time.

Jensen crept quietly into the kitchen, spying the block of knives on the counter next to the fridge when he heard nearing footsteps from the living room. Moving quickly, he pulled one of the knives from the block before he slid in behind the door, pressing himself flat against the wall.

A dark shadow was cast onto the kitchen floor and Jensen didn’t dare to breathe. He felt cold sweat drench his skin from where he gripped the knife. He was oddly aware of the way his fingernails dug into the knife’s hilt, of the hasty thumping of his heart inside his chest, so loud he was sure it gave him away.

Finally, the guy took a step forward and Jensen didn’t hesitate. He kicked the door open, slamming it against the man’s back from behind with enough force to send him flying forward. Taken by surprise, the guy crashed against the kitchen sink. The impact caused him to momentarily lose hold of his gun and he fucker never knew what hit him. One moment he was fumbling with his gun, and the next he was pinned to the counter, the sharp blade of the butcher knife digging threateningly into the skin of his neck. Jensen’s face was hovering over him, green eyes glinting with fury. “You’ve got _one second_ to tell me who you are before I _gut_ you, you dirty piece of shit.”

“Whoa, hey, easy tiger. Let’s- let’s talk about this.”

The guy dropped his gun on the counter and lifted his palms in surrender.

He had shaggy dark hair and big hazel eyes and he was tall, kinda like Jared, only less muscular. Jensen spotted a few badly done tattoos on the guy’s hands and neck but other than that, no outward sign that he was part of the Reapers. No leather jacket or rings on his fingers. No indication whatsoever that he was part of any local motorcycle club.

That didn’t mean shit, of course. For all they knew, the guy was just another one of Ty’s lackeys, doing the dirty work.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Jensen barked out. He tightened his grip on the guy’s jacket and put more pressure on the blade. The knife nicked the guy’s skin and a bead of blood trailed down over his Adam’s apple as he swallowed convulsively.

“Jared’s brother! I’m Jared’s fucking brother, alright?”

“Jared doesn’t have a brother,” Jensen spat.

“So he never told you about me?” The guy had the nerve to look insulted. “Well that’s just fucking— I’m his half-brother, alright? My name’s Jack. We share the same mother. I used to live with them until Mary moved to Boston. Does any of this shit ring a bell with you?”  

‘Jack’ slowly lowered his hands, trying to slip one into his jacket pocket and Jensen tensed, fingers tightening around the knife’s hilt. “ _Don’t._ ”

“Alright- gee… alright. I’m not moving.“

“How many of you are there?” Jensen demanded.

“I’m alone,” Jack said. “It’s just me.”

Jensen’s eyes narrowed. “There’s two fucking bikes outside, genius. You think I wouldn’t notice?! Where’s the other guy? Is he upstairs? Tell me!”

“Alright! Alright! He’s waiting outside. Back exit. I told him to stay out because I didn’t want him to spook you, I swear to fucking god! It’s the truth, man. I wouldn’t have brought some stranger to the house where my brother’s family lives.”

Jensen regained his tight hold on the guy while swapping his knife for the gun the fucker had dropped earlier and pulled back the safety.

“You think this is some kind of game?” he hissed out, his expression ice cold as he pressed the muzzle of the gun against the guy’s temple. “I heard your _buddy’s_ voice coming from upstairs. So you are going to call him _down._ And you are going to do it _now._ Or I will blow your fucking brains out, you understand me?”

That seemed to do the trick.

“Shit, okay. Relax. I’ll call him down, alright?” Jack babbled nervously and there was something in his eyes, the slightest shift from feigned cool to god-honest concern that gave Jensen a strange sense of satisfaction.

“Yo, Rod! Get down here, man! I think I found something!” he beckoned and Jensen tensed when he heard a movement going on upstairs. Still keeping the stranger at gunpoint, Jensen grabbed the knife with his other hand and regarded it for a second.

His eyes flicked down at the tattooed back of Jack’s hand where it was braced against the edge of the kitchen counter. Noticing the way Jensen’s attention suddenly shifted, Jack’s eyes narrowed, a worried frown on his face. “Look, _Jensen_? It’s Jensen, right? I know this all seems pretty messed up, but Rod wasn’t supposed to come inside. I fucking swear to god, man. He’s a bit… he’s not the brightest bulb in the shed if you know what I mean--”

Without any sort of warning, Jensen thrust the blade down hard into the back of Jack’s palm, pinning his hand to the wooden kitchen counter. A blood-curdling howl of pain filled the air as Jack folded in half, fingers spasming around the blade and expression twisted with agony. He stared at the butcher knife sticking out of the back of his hand in absolute horror, face gone white and eyes filled with tears of pain as he screamed. “MOTHERFUCKER!”

Another guy suddenly slithered to a halt in the doorway and Jensen whipped around with the gun in his arms, aim unwavering as he pointed the loaded weapon at the newcomer.

“Hands where I can see them!” he ordered and when ‘Rod’ didn’t immediately react, he fired off a warning shot at the ground before his feet, causing the guy to jump and go pale. “Put your gun on the ground and slide it over. _Slowly._ ”

Rod’s gaze flickered over to Jack, who was clearly the one calling the shots in this operation before he pressed his mouth into a bitter line and pulled his gun out. He slowly sank into a crouch and dropped it to the tiled floor before sliding it across the kitchen with his foot.

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Now walk over to the radiator,” Jensen instructed, motioning for the wall with the muzzle of the gun. He one-handedly opened one of the drawers and pulled out an unused zip tie, before he walked over to where Rod had positioned himself. He grabbed the guy’s wrists and roughly tied them against a steel pipe, not caring whether he cut off blood supply or not. For now, he just needed them both incapacitated.

“Fucking shit,” Jack panted from the other side of the room, his scream having dissolved into rapid breathing and pained whimpers. “W-what the fuck’s wrong with you? Y-you…god-- you’ve ruined my goddamn _hand_ , you fucking asshole! If Jay f-finds out what you did--”

“Shut up,” Jensen growled, shooting Jack a glare that promised a slow and painful death if he didn’t stop talking. Guy would be fucking _lucky_ if Jensen killed him before Jared got here.

Jensen patted Rod down to see if he had any additional weapons on him. Sure enough, he found a serrated knife and brass knuckles on the bastard, Jensen felt sick as he dumped both weapons in the sink with a metallic clutter. This guy had been upstairs with Sandy and the kids while carrying an entire fucking arsenal on his body. The thought alone made his finger twitch around the trigger of his gun, but Jensen forced the anger down. They’d figure out a way to deal with these two fuckers when Jared got here.

Jensen checked the zip tie one more time before he put the safety back on the gun and walked out of the kitchen, leaving the two guys behind.

“Sandy?!” he yelled, racing up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

“Jensen!” she responded and Jensen turned in the direction where her voice had come from.

He found her in the bedroom, cuffed to the wooden post of the bed with a bleeding gash on her temple. Elizabeth was hiding behind her mother’s leg, crying softly and Jensen sent a frantic glance around the room to try and spot Kelly. He couldn’t see his son anywhere and his heart skipped a beat at the realization.

Stepping over the upturned furniture, Jensen captured Sandy’s face and took an assessing look at her head injury. It was deep, probably needed stitches, but she would be okay. No signs of concussion from what he could tell. He crouched down to look at Elizabeth next, thankful to find her seemingly unharmed. “Hey, Elle. Look at me, sweetie. You okay?”

“She’s alright, they didn’t touch her,” Sandy said, voice wavering from shock. “God, Jensen,” she let out brokenly. “I heard the shot coming from downstairs and I thought--”

“Where’s Kelly?” Jensen demanded, fear sinking in now that the adrenaline slowly wore off.

“He’s in your room. I put him to sleep in your bed about an hour ago and I- I don’t know if they even noticed him. They were rummaging around earlier but, Jensen, I don’t--”

Jensen didn’t even wait long enough to listen to what she was saying. He knew that Sandy’s injuries needed to be taken care of, but they could deal with that later.

Crossing over to Jared and his bedroom, Jensen opened the door and there Kelly was, curled up in a corner of the room, with his knees pulled up to his chin and his arms wrapped around them, shoulders hitching with the force of his sobs.

Jensen felt like he couldn’t breathe, everything inside of him tightening to a point where it was painful. His son was four years old and he was sitting in a corner, bawling, scared out of his mind because two guys had come in here with guns blazing.

“Baby?” Jensen’s voice cracked as he slowly approached Kelly and sank into a crouch in front of the toddler. The four-year-old lifted his head at the voice of his father. His face was streaked with tears, his bottom lip wobbling. Jensen’s heart broke when he reached out to touch his son and Kelly flinched away from his hand. “Hey… it’s okay. It’s alright, baby. I’ve got you.”  

“P-papa?” Kelly sniffed and before Jensen got a chance to say anything else, the four-year-old threw himself into his father’s arms, crying even harder than before.

Jensen tightened his arm around his son and buried his nose in Kelly’s baby-soft hair. It took him a full minute of just hugging Kelly and whispering nonsensical words of comfort against his son’s forehead, before becoming aware of the nearing rumble of motorcycles outside.

_Jared._

Thank god.

 

 

The scene Jared arrived to wasn’t anything he had expected.

The first thing he became aware of when he entered Chad’s house was the overpowering stench of blood. Paralyzing fear spread through Jared’s veins. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to sprint down that shadowed corridor, to yell for Jensen and Kelly, make sure they were both alright. Instead, Jared clenched his teeth and tightened his fingers around his gun as he hesitantly took another step forward.

There were muffled voices and pained grunts coming from the kitchen, but before Jared could get that far, a movement from atop the staircase caught his attention. Whirling around, Jared pointed his gun at the person, only to freeze the next second when relief hit him so hard it sent his head spinning.

Jensen was standing at the top of the staircase. He looked like hell, his face pale and his eyes red-rimmed. Blood was smeared across the back of his hand and coating his fingers. Kelly was in Jensen’s arms, hiding his face in Jensen’s neck, obviously distraught from whatever the hell had gone down here.

“Oh god.” Jared closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment to soak in the fact that Jensen and Kelly were both alive and unharmed. “You both okay? What the fuck happened?”

Putting the safety back on, Jared made to rush up the stairs, but Jensen shook his head, stopping his advance.  “They are in the kitchen. You should… one of them says he’s your brother. He said his name’s Jack.”

A rush of blinding anger overcame Jared. His fingers tightened around his gun, jaw locked and shoulders squared as he walked toward the kitchen.

Jared hadn’t seen Jack in over ten years.

And after all this fucking time, he found his half-brother pinned to the fucking kitchen counter with a knife sticking out of the back of his hand, the entire countertop slickened with blood.

“Jared! _Fuck,_ J-jay, l-listen, man. You gotta-- you gotta get this thing outta me. Please. I need t-to--”

Jared crossed the room so fast that Jack never saw the punch coming. The force of the blow sent Jack tumbling back, legs giving out beneath him. Not giving Jack a chance to gather his bearings, Jared grabbed him by the front of his shirt and roughly lifted him back to his feet, ignoring the pained groan and gasp Jack let out when his arm was jarred where it was still pinned to the countertop.

“You break into the fucking house where my boyfriend and four-year-old son stay?”

“Jay, I didn’t--”

“And you bring this _junky_ with you,” Jared snarled, pointing his gun at Rod. “The piece of shit low life that got you hooked on meth?”

“Fuck you!” Rod growled out from where he was still tied to the radiator and got himself punched in the stomach by Chris for his trouble.

“Shut up, asshole,” Chris snapped, slamming his knee up into the guy’s groin for good measure and watching him curled into himself with a grunt of pain.

“Get him out of my sight before I snuff his fucking lights out,” Jared ordered.

“Jared,” Jack piped up once more, coughing up a glob of bloodied spittle, breathing ragged from the beating he’d taken. His hand was twitching and spasming around the sharp blade in his hand. “L-listen. This isn’t what it fucking looks like. I can explain....”

Jared watched Chris and Steve dragging Rod out of the kitchen. Then he  turned back toward Jack, his eyes almost black with fury. “Rod’s a fucking convicted drug dealer and you’ve brought him into this house, exposing my family to your bullshit life? Bringing loaded guns with you? _Threatening_ them?”

Jared grabbed the hilt of the knife and moved it, just enough to send a wave of fresh wave of pain through his half-brother’s body. Jack groaned and bit his bottom lip hard enough to break the skin. “You don’t come up with an explanation for all this real quick and I’ll make sure you never use that hand again, you understand me?” Jared growled.

“Jay, wait. I can fucking… I can explain, okay?” Jack panted, voice filled with pain.

“Why did you come here?” Jared yelled, loud enough to cause Jack to flinch. “Ten years and I haven’t seen your goddamn face once and now you show up like this? Why? Did Ty send you? You runnin’ errands for the fucking Reapers now?! S’that it?”

“NO!” Jack shot back hastily. His eyes were wide and glazed over with pain, his strands of unkempt brown hair falling lifelessly into his eyes. “H-he told me to come here, to spy on you and the gang, but I didn’t fucking agree alright? You gotta believe me, man. I- I came here to warn you. I swear…”

“Yeah, and I got every fucking reason to believe you,” Jared said darkly.

He yanked the knife free with a sickening sound, cutting right through sinew and tendons and sending Jack into a pained frenzie. An ear-piercing scream filled the kitchen as Jack jack-knifed forward, his uninjured left hand clamping down over his blood-spurting palm. Tears of pain streamed over his bloodied face, genuine fear shining from his eyes. And maybe that should have stopped Jared, maybe his conscience should have rebelled against the sight of his half-brother in so much pain. But it didn’t. All Jared could think about, all he could _see_ , was the way Jensen had looked when he had entered the house earlier, pale and scared and so goddamn shaken. And Kelly… Kelly hadn’t even been able to look up, hiding himself away in Jensen’s neck. They had been _terrified._

Grabbing Jack’s mangled hand, Jared locked his jaw and stared deep into Jack’s eyes. “I’m gonna ask you one last time. You workin’ for Ty or not?”

Jack’s eyes went huge, his breath hitching as he realized what Jared was about to do. “Jay listen to m-me. We can fucking talk about t-this, please- just let me--”

“Wrong answer.”

Jared’s eyes went dark when pressed his thumb into the gushing wound on Jack’s palm and dug it into the flesh hard. Jack had just enough time to let out one last gurgled howl before his eyes rolled back and his body went slack.

 

 

“Hey, kiddo.” Chris gently tried to lift Kelly out of Jensen’s grasp, but the four-year-old just tightened his hold around Jensen’s neck, crying a bit harder at the prospect of being torn from his father’s side. “No! I want daddy.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jensen shushed him, sending Chris a look. They had been trying to disentangle the toddler from Jensen for about ten minutes now, but Kelly was obviously still too distraught to be separated from Jensen. “I’ll be right here where you can see me, okay? I just need to take a look at your aunt Sandy because she got hurt. Remember how papa’s a doctor? Remember how it’s my job to make sick people well again?”

Kelly nodded against his neck. “Y-you cure people of the dezes…” he recounted softly, his breath hitching. “Like a s-superhero.”

Jensen’s heart swelled with love at the words. “That’s right, kiddo. Now, I’m gonna need you to be brave for me so I can help your aunt Sandy. You think you can do that for me?”

Kelly nodded once more and Jensen’s heart broke when Chris gently pried his son from his hold, Kelly’s bottom lip wobbling and his blue eyes filled with tears at the loss of contact to his father. “Easy, buddy. I’ve got you. Let’s go and find those dinosaurs of yours, huh? I bet they miss playin’ with you.”

Jensen sent Chris a look of thanks before walking over to where Chad was pressing a piece of gauze against Sandy’s injury with shaking fingers. The gauze dropped from his hands and he fumbled with the bloodied bandage, letting out a string of curses. He was clearly on the verge of a fucking breakdown.

“Hey.” Jensen gently covered the man’s hands with his own until Chad’s eyes flew up to meet Jensen’s gaze. “It’s okay, I got this. Go check on your daughter.”

Katie had taken Elizabeth upstairs earlier. Thankfully, neither of the kids had gotten hurt, but Elizabeth had been in the room when Rod had hit Sandy over the head with the butt of his semi-automatic. The five-year-old girl had watched her mom crumbling to the floor at the hands of a scary-looking stranger which was bound to traumatize her. Elizabeth had seemed fine enough when they had first searched her for injuries, but they all knew that the real damage was the kind that you could not see. She needed her father.

Thankfully, Kelly hadn’t even seen the guys. From what Jensen had managed to get out of him, his son had woken up to the sound of ‘angry voices’. The thing that had scared him the most was the sound of a gun being fired off downstairs. He was frightened, but Jensen could tell that he would be okay if given a bit of reassurance and distraction.

When Chad hesitated to leave Sandy’s side, Jensen gave his shoulder a tight squeeze. “I’ve got this covered.”

“He’s right.” Sandy offered up a weak smile and Chad visibly struggled to leave his wife’s side after finding her injured and cuffed to the bedpost. He took a deep breath and visibly steeled himself before he went to join the others.

Once he was gone Jensen sighed and sat down on the edge of the couch table.

“You okay?” he asked Sandy gently. It was weird how Jensen felt almost calm in the aftermath of what had happened. Maybe he had grown too fucking numb inside to care about two drug-addled criminals breaking into the house his four-year-old slept in. Or maybe he couldn’t allow himself to break down because the others needed him to be strong. Whatever it was, Jensen was glad for the way his fingers didn’t even shake when he poured a bit of rubbing alcohol over a clean cloth.

“This will burn,” Jensen warned her before starting to dab at the wound.

Sandy hissed and Jensen gave her a tiny smile for comfort. “Told you.”

“Those guys.” Sandy changed the topic. “They are bad news.”

“Big fucking surprise,” Steve growled out from where he was pacing the room restlessly. “Fuckers break into our goddamn house and attack a woman and two scared little kids. God knows what they would have done if Jensen hadn’t gotten here in time. We should have shot them on the fucking spot if y’ask me.”

“ _Hey,_ ” Chris hissed from where he was crouched down by Kelly’s side across the room, still trying distract the upset child. “Mind taking the fucking conversation elsewhere?”

“Why don’t you take him out of the room?” Steve hissed, clearly still on edge from what had happened. It was like watching a fucking train-wreck, the way Chris reacted to the ruse, rising up to his full height and squaring his shoulders. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because he’s fucking terrified to leave Jen’s side, you insensitive _prick_!”

“What did you just call me?” Steve growled out, fingers curling into fists as he took a threatening step forward, the two of them now close to trading blows.

They were both caught off guard when Jared strode into the room, looking _pissed._

“The fuck’s going on?” Jared grabbed Chris by the front of his shirt and shoved him back before rounding in on Steve. “Get your fucking shit together. This isn’t the _time_.”

Watching the way Steve and Chris simultaneously reigned in their anger simply because Jared told them to, Jensen was oddly reminded of an alpha wolf keeping his pack in line. The way these two overgrown, tall, and bulky guys backed down at one word from Jared’s mouth would never stop amazing Jensen. It wasn’t fear that kept them in check, but respect and years’ worth of loyalty.

“Jensen,” Jared said, regaining his attention. “I need you in the kitchen.”

Jensen put a piece of gauze over Sandy’s wound and squeezed her shoulder before getting up to follow Jared. Just before he was able to leave, Sandy captured his wrist to hold him in place, her eyes dark and intense as they stared up at him. For a second it felt like she somehow _knew,_ like she was about to say something, but then she blinked and the moment was broken. “Thank you,” she said. “For...you know. Saving our hide.”

Jensen wasn’t sure if she meant the treatment of her injury or the way he’d shish-kebabed Jack’s hand in the kitchen earlier. But it didn’t matter. She was family.

“You don’t have to say that to me,” he said. “Not ever.”

 

 

Jack regained consciousness by the time Jensen entered the kitchen.

“Oh look, the torture duo’s back,” he drawled out sarcastically. He looked like death warmed over. Blood loss and shock had started to take a toll on him. “Where did you guys meet? At an SM convention? Butcher class 101?”

Jared sank into a crouch before Jack and glanced over his shoulder at Jensen. “With an injury like that, what would you say are his chances to regain full mobility of his left hand?”

Jensen thought about it. He had purposefully avoided all of the metacarpal bone structures, but it was impossible to tell how much damage the nerves, tendons, and ligaments had suffered, especially with Jared’s thumb pressing into the wound, jarring it even further. Realistically speaking, Jack could kiss his dexterity goodbye.

“Twenty percent,” Jensen guessed. “Maybe twenty-five.”

Jared pursed his lips. “Huh,” he said, slinging an arm around Jack’s neck and pulling him into a loose headlock. “Doesn’t exactly sound like good odds to me. So unless you want to lose function of your other hand _too_ , I’d suggest you stow the smart-ass remarks and only speak when you’re spoken to. You understand me?”

Jack glared at Jared for a moment before he replied. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“You said Ty told you to come here,” Jared reminded. “Why? What were you supposed to do?”

Jack held Jared’s glare. “Officially? He wanted me to infiltrate your outlaw friends and deliver intel about your gang to the Reapers.”

“And unofficially?” Jared demanded, sensing that there was more to it.

“Unofficially,” Jack’s gaze wandered over to where Jensen stood, a slow smile creeping on his features. “I’m pretty sure his endgame would have somehow involved that feisty lil’ spitfire of yours.”

Rage made Jared’s eyes appear black, his pupils glowed teal with fury. In that moment, the Jared from this morning, the Jared with the gentle gaze and soft smile was far away. Right now there was no trace of softness, of empathy on his face. Only the promise of a slow and gruesome death at the indirect threat toward Jensen.

“You wanna know why I’m here?” Jack asked. “I owed Diego money. Then you and your gang of fucking dimwits got Diego killed. Well, guess who the new sheriff in town is?”

“How much money do you owe them?” Jared demanded.

“Twenty grand,” Jack gave back with a wry smile. His teeth were coated red with blood and Jensen felt sickened by it all, the stench of copper in the air, the cold, hard look on Jared’s face and the entire fucking conversation they led. “I was supposed to sell shit for Diego, but someone stole the drugs. I’ve been payin’ it back fair and square until you offed him.”

Jensen took a deep breath, hoping that Jared’s burning hard stare would only last as long as it took him to break every breakable bone in his brother’s body.

“Turns out Ty wasn’t quite as patient as Diego used to be. He said I’d get a week to get the money back or he’d kill me,” Jack added.

Jared’s eyes narrowed. “He told you he'd release you from your debt if you managed to weasle your way into the gang and sell us out instead."

“Somethin’ along the lines of that, yeah,” Jack gave back coolly, seemingly unbothered by the way Jared’s shoulders were knotted with tension.

"Yeah, real good fucking plan," Jensen snorted, shaking his head. "Because there's no better way to win someone's trust than to break into their house, hurt their friends and scare their kid to death."

Jack shot Jensen a glare. "Look, I changed my fucking mind, okay? I’m here now, telling you everything you wanna know. We can turn this thing around. I can play double agent, pretend to work for Ty and give you any intel you need."

"Yeah, you changed your mind because you got caught," Jensen accused. "You'd tell us anything we wanna hear to save your hide."

“You really haven’t changed at all,” Jared snorted, not even trying to keep the disgust from his voice. His expression was hard and unempathetic, his fingers curled into loose fists by his sides. “Still the same spineless rat you were ten fucking years ago.”

Jack snorted, a dark look settling on his features as he fixed Jared with a hate-filled stare. “Guess we can’t all come neat and clean like you did, living the American dream with a dimple-faced kids and a model husband."

"Yeah, guess we can’t,” Jared sneered and then fished a set of keys from his jeans pocket before dumping them carelessly in his half-brother’s lap. He leaned down to grab a fistful of Jack’s hair, brutally pulling the strands from the roots. Jack’s eyes widened as he gasped in pain. “I don’t fucking trust you, Jack. Not with my life. And certainly not with the life of anyone else in this house. If I ever see you anywhere close to my friends or family again, you won't walk away from it, you get that?”

With that, Jared let go of Jack’s hair, roughly shoving him back and straightening to his full height. “You can tell Ty to go fuck himself."

 

 

Jack was going to fucking murder Jared. And he was going to do it slowly.

“Tell me you got something.” Ty’s voice came through the speaker and Jack grit his teeth against a new surge of frustration.

 _‘_ _Yeah, I got irreversible nerve damage to my fucking right hand, you motherfucker.’_

Fortunately, Jack had just enough composure left to bite back the words that rested on the tip of his tongue.

“You didn’t tell me his boyfriend is a fucking psycho.”

Ty had the fucking nerve to chuckle. “Guess that means it went about as well as could be expected?”

“I told you it would take time to win over Jay’s trust,” Jack gave back, having run out of patience. “It’s gonna take more than a few flimsy lies to let me in.”

Come to think of it, bringing Rod, along for the ride, hadn’t exactly boosted his trustworthiness either.

“Find anything in the house?” Ty ventured on.

Jack stared down at the object in his left hand, the one that didn’t have a ton of sutures in it.

“Not exactly in the house, no, “ he said slowly, turning the white plastic stick around in his hand and staring at the three little crosses on its display. “But in the dumpster by the garage.”

The test could be anyone’s, but Jack could have sworn that Jensen’s had guarded his middle during their fight in the kitchen. It could be a coincidence, but Jack didn’t think it was.

“And what would that be?” Ty asked curiously.

Jack smirked. “I think you’re gonna like this.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been way too long, guys. Sorry to keep you waiting, but RL was kicking my ass. Anyway, I'm back now and I hope y'all enjoyed this latest addition. Please spare me a second of your time to share your thoughts with me!! Reviews fuel the fire <3 Major thanks to my amazing betas ficluv82 and kimenem who put up with my 3 million drafts and turn them into something useful :) Love you guys! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TRIGGER WARNINGS* for bad language, violence, MENTIONS OF: abortion, brain damage/organ failure, miscarriage, car accidents, drunk-driving, infertility, uterine anomaly.

**Open Highway** **  
** **Chapter 6**

Jensen was cleaning blood from the kitchen counter when Jared entered with a first-aid kit in his hands. Feeling Jared’s gaze on his neck, he slowly turned around and unclenched his fingers from the soggy sponge before dumping it in the sink.

He knew he was in for one hell of a lecture ever since he had hung up on Jared and pulled a solo-stunt.

“Look,” he sighed. “I know I should have—”

Before he could finish, Jensen found himself with an armful of Jared, who pulled him against his chest. Stunned, Jensen hesitated for a second before he returned the embrace. Jared brought his hand up to Jensen’s nape and Jensen allowed their bodies to align, molding himself into his boyfriend’s chest like they were two puzzle pieces, created to complete each other. Silence passed between them as Jensen buried his face in Jared’s neck, feeling Jared’s breath scuttling down his spine like a pleasant chill.

Eventually, Jared broke away and took a step back to look Jensen in the eyes. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“They were coming after Kelly,” Jensen returned. “That’s what _the hell_ I was thinking.”

“I was on my fucking way, Jensen. I’d have been here in a few minutes.”

“A lot of shit can happen in a few minutes,” Jensen snapped. “They were doing god-knows-what to our _son_ , Jay! Was I supposed to just wait and twiddle my thumbs?”

Jared clamped his mouth shut, wise enough to back off, but somehow the silence only managed to spark Jensen’s anger.

“Nice to know that you have a brother, by the way,” Jensen spat and then turned back toward the counter, picking the sponge up and scrubbing furiously at the blood stains there. It hurt to think that Jared had kept something so important from him. “I’m so glad you trust me enough to open up about your family.”

“Jack’s not my family,” Jared growled.

Jensen tensed, his shoulder muscles knotted with tension. He turned around slowly, fisting the sponge until soapy suds dripped all over the kitchen floor. “Jack broke into this house with a fucking arsenal on his body, so clearly you two got some history. I’d say whatever the hell he is to you concerns me as well.”

“Right.” Jared snorted. “Because you’re such an open book when it comes to your family.”

“Don’t,” Jensen hissed, whipping around to jab a finger at Jared’s chest, dripping reddish suds all over Jared’s shirt. “Don’t you dare make this about me. My family is messed up and no one knows that better than me, but at least they don’t come crashing into this house with a loaded gun in their hands.”

Jared looked like he was about to blow up. They were standing so close, both breathing heavily with how worked up they were, when something caught Jared’s attention and his gaze zeroed in on Jensen’s arm. Jensen watched a myriad of emotions swirling in Jared’s hazel eyes before concern won him over. “You hurt?”

Perplexed, Jensen looked down and found a large purple bruise stretched across his forearm.

Huh.

He must have gotten that little souvenir during the brawl in the kitchen. Maybe Jack had landed a lucky blow or Jensen had accidentally knocked his arm against the counter. He couldn’t remember. “I didn’t even notice.”

With a sigh, Jared’s earlier anger dissipated like mist under the heat of the sun. He had never been able to ignore it when Jensen was hurting.

Without a word, Jared reached out to assess the damage, running his calloused fingertips over the colorful bruises on Jensen’s arm like he could somehow make them vanish. Once he deemed the bruises as non-life-threatening, he ran a hand over Jensen’s chest. “Ribs?”

“They’re fine.” Jensen was certain of that. He wouldn’t have been able to gain the upper hand in the fight so quickly if they weren’t. But he understood Jared’s need to make absolutely sure.

Jared was careful when he lifted Jensen’s shirt and  pressed his fingers against the bare skin, resting his palm flat against Jensen’s side. He felt the easy in and out of Jensen’s breath, a clear sign that there were no broken ribs. Jared traced along the delicate bones, feeling for cracks. He was sure every time Jared touched him like this, in such an intimate way, he’d be able to feel the barely-there heartbeat of their unborn child. But Jared’s face remained stoic the entire time, his expression not giving anything away.

“There’s nothing,” Jared eventually concluded.

“Told you.” Jensen cleared his throat and pulled his shirt back down, when Jared reached for his hands, stopping his movements. Even though Jensen had been cleaning every surface of the kitchen for at least half an hour, blood was still visible beneath his fingernails and drying in the crease of his palms. Jared turned Jensen’s hands over in his own, gently tracing the blood-spattered skin with a worried frown.

“I’m fine,” Jensen insisted.

Jared looked up at Jensen with an intensity that sent a shudder down his spine. “Are you?”

“I just impaled someone’s hand with a kitchen knife.” Jensen let out a bitter snort. “I’m fan-freakin’-tastic.”

He shook his head, looking at a spot somewhere above Jared’s right shoulder because sometimes he couldn’t believe that this was his life. Shooting people, knifing them and raising a four-year-old in the midst of it all. Really, it was a miracle CPS hadn’t come knocking on their door. What the fuck did Jared want to hear? That everything was A-okay? That tonight hadn’t scared the living shit out of him?

Jared paused and just looked at Jensen. With a sigh, he walked over to the sink. He picked up a clean rag and held it under the hot stream of water, then returned to Jensen’s side, before lifting Jensen’s hand and starting to clean each finger meticulously.

“After that warehouse,” Jared began slowly. “I promised myself that the day I ever saw you covered in blood again, would be the day I picked up my gun and stuck it in my mouth.”

“Jared—” Jensen recoiled from the words, trying to withdraw his hand but Jared held on tight, not letting him go.

“Probably should have gotten the deed done after the first time you got hurt because of me.”

“You’re an idiot,” Jensen blurted out, heart beating wildly in his chest. “You’re an idiot if you think I wouldn’t be one damn bullet behind you.”

Jared stopped his movement completely. For a second he just froze, throat visibly constricting.

This was too much, too close to all the things they never said.

Jared licked his lip, looking anywhere but at Jensen. He kept his gaze carefully averted, struggling to express his feelings. “I keep promising you that you and Kelly are safe and I keep failing to keep that fucking promise.”

“Jay,” Jensen turned his hand in Jared’s grasp, fingers closing around Jared’s. “We’re ok.”

“You’re not okay,” Jared snapped and then - only then - did he look up to pin Jensen with a fierce glare. “Stop saying that you are because I can look right through your bullshit.”

Jensen was quiet for a moment before he tugged his hand out of Jared’s hold and braced his elbows on the sink. He was so damn tired — physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. He wanted to sleep for days, but since their return to Boston he had barely slept three hours at a time, torn between nausea and stomach cramps and night terrors so vivid they had him in tears. Jensen had thought he was hiding it well, but he should have known better. Jared might not have spent every night at his side, but he still knew Jensen better than anyone and he must have noticed the little changes, the shaking in his hands, the circles beneath his eyes, the way he had shied away from too much touch lately. Of course,  Jared had noticed.

Jared made a pause that was long enough for Jensen to offer up an explanation, a heart-to-heart, a confession.

And Jensen wanted to tell him, he wanted so badly to get this weight off of his chest. But no matter how much he willed himself to tell him, it was like an invisible hand shot down his throat, strangling his vocal cords. He _couldn’t._

If anything, Jared’s words only drove home the fact that Jensen was making the right call in NOT telling Jared. With everyone looking at Jared for guidance, for direction, the burden he carried was already too heavy.

Taking the silence for an answer, Jared let out a sigh. “Wanna take a shower while I fix you something to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” Jensen said.

Jared gave him a stern look. “Tough. I haven’t seen you eat anything in days.”

Jensen turned towards the door with a teasing smile on his lips. “You gonna spoon-feed me?”

“I’ll make you something light,” Jared replied. “Soup. Now go and get in the damn shower.”

 

 

By the time Jensen returned from the bathroom, shower-fresh and with his dripping hair plastered to his forehead, he found Jared stretched out on the bed in the guest room with his eyes at half-mast. The TV was on and there was a tray with chicken broth on the nightstand.

“Smells good,” Jensen said, scrubbing his hair dry with a towel. His stomach grumbled at the prospect of food.

Jared scooted, making room for his boyfriend. “It’s from the can so don’t expect too much.”

Jensen plopped down on the bed beside Jared and hissed when he tried to lift the bowl and burned his fingers in the process. “Where’s Kelly?” he asked, licking a drop of soup from his thumb.

“Katie took the kids over to Steve’s place for tonight.”

Jensen tensed up at the thought of Kelly being out of reach, but he knew that the gang would take good care of their son. With what had happened tonight, a change of scenery was probably best for the kids. After all, how were they supposed to feel safe in the house after it got broken into?

Jensen shoved the dark thoughts into the back of his mind and swallowed down his unease at being separated from their son. He ate in silence, the TV on mute with neither of them paying attention. After a while, the quiet become unbearable for Jensen, too many thoughts and too many questions swirling through his mind.

“Will you tell me about Jack?” he eventually asked, before shoving his half-empty bowl away. He lay down next to Jared, resting his head on Jared’s bare chest.

Jared carded his tattooed hand through Jensen’s shower-wet strands. “Not now.”

Jensen yawned and rubbed his face on Jared’s chest, his eyelashes fluttering weakly against the black ink gracing his boyfriend’s skin. “Later, then.”

“Yeah,” Jared agreed. “Get some rest.”

Jensen just wanted to sleep, now that sleep was within reach. He just wanted to give in to the wave of fatigue and exhaustion he’d been battling for the last few hours. He was barely conscious, more asleep than awake when he felt Jared’s voice rumbling through his chest. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Jensen didn’t have enough energy to offer up a response, but he curled his fingers into the fabric of Jared’s shirt right above his beating heart, hoping that Jared heard him anyway.

 

 

Jensen awoke to the sensation of Jared’s warm body pressed against him. It was a pleasant change to the many recent nights where Jensen had startled out of a nightmare and found himself restless and alone, or curled over the toilet in excruciating pain.

“You're still here,” he muttered drowsily.

The only response he received was a press of Jared’s lips against his shoulder. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Jensen froze when Jared started to shift and move away.

“ _No_ ,” he let out in a rush, his heart and body revolting at the thought of Jared leaving. The word came out too loud and too desperate, but it stopped Jared nonetheless. “You don’t have to leave yet, right?”

“I should take next watch after Chris,” Jared reasoned but then settled back against the pillows. “Guess he can wait for a bit longer.”

Relaxing his body, Jensen shifted and turned around in Jared’s hold until they were facing each other. They stared at each other in silence for a second or two, Jensen’s hand coming up to cup the side of Jared’s face, thumb stroking over the dimples he loved so much before Jared leaned down to kiss him. On instinct, Jensen angled his head to the side, threading fingers through Jared’s hair and tugging on the thick strands. Jared nipped on Jensen’s bottom lip, causing him to whimper. Eventually, Jared  pulled away and Jensen pouted, pushing his bottom lip out. “Why’d you stop?”

Jared chuckled and tapped his bottom lip with his tattooed fingers. “Cause if we continue what we started, I’m not gonna be able to hold back.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to hold back.” Jensen’s fingers teased along the elastic of Jared’s boxers, slipping underneath. He felt for Jared’s cock and wrapped his hand around it in a slow stroke.

"Fuck, Jensen." Jared’s breathing picked up with each measured movement of Jensen’s hand. “We got like ten minutes before someone comes lookin' for us."

Jensen’s thumb pressed against the underside of Jared’s cock on the next upstroke, finding that secret spot under the head that made Jared’s hips buck every single time. “ _Shit._ So fucking good.”

“Ten minutes should be enough,” Jensen said, speeding up his pace. "We've done more with less..."

“Not fair." Jared gritted his teeth, pushing up into Jensen’s stroked in involuntary twists of his hips.

Jensen smirked and brushed a kiss on Jared’s lips. He tightened his fist on Jared’s cock, jerking him in a way that bordered on harsh. Jared groaned and pleaded and clung to Jensen, utterly beyond caring about how he sounded or what he looked like. His orgasm ripped out of him and Jensen stroked him through it, touch increasingly light until he stopped and withdrew his hand from Jared’s boxers.

Jensen leaned down to kiss Jared’s eyelids, gentle fingers cupping the side of Jared’s face. Jared blinked his eyes back open, unaware he’d closed them.Jensen kissed his cheek and it took a moment for Jared to regain enough control over his body to thread his tattooed fingers through Jensen’s hair.

“What ‘bout you?” he asked, still out of breath.

“Stay.” Jensen wriggled out of Jared’s grasp and slipped out of bed, walking into the bathroom. The sound of drawers being opened filtered into the room and Jared raised a brow at Jensen when he came back, waving a bottle of lube through the air before tossing it onto Jared’s stomach.

Jared frowned at the offending object before returning his gaze back to Jensen, who was busy pulling his shirt over his head and shimmying out of his sweatpants. His movements were slow and deliberate, a clear invitation to look. And how could Jared not? Jensen’s whole body was flushed and Jared tracked every freckle with his eyes, from the broad shoulders and the brand-new tattoo on his chest down to his cock, which was hard and leaking.

“C’mere,” Jared waved at Jensen to come closer and Jensen obeyed, clambering onto the mattress and tugging Jared’s boxers down. Jared lifted his hips so Jensen could work the sticky fabric off. He wasn’t prepared for Jensen to lean down and take the tip of his cock in his mouth, sucking on it gently. Jared’s sensitivity had waned enough for it to feel amazing and he tossed his head back against the pillows, groaning when Jensen’s tongue swirled around the crown once more before he pulled off with an obscene sound. "Fucking tease..." Jared muttered in protest, driving a hand through his sweaty hair.

Jensen's lips were shiny and swollen, cheeks flustered as he straddled Jared’s lap and picked up the lube. And seriously, no one with lips like that should be allowed to leave a blowjob half-finished.

“Fuck me with your fingers," Jensen husked out, pupils blown with arousal.

Jared loved it when Jensen took direction about what he wanted. He took the lube and uncapped it. “Sure that’ll be enough for you?”

“Depends.” Jensen braced his elbows on either side of Jared’s head and leaned down to steal a kiss.

“On my skills?” Jared asked, breath hot and damp against Jensen's lips.

Jensen smirked. “Amongst other things, yeah.”

Jared chuckled and Jensen felt it _everywhere._ He flanked Jensen’s hip with the hand that was not covered in lube. “Move up,” he instructed and watched the way Jensen shuffled forward.

“Relax,” Jared said and that was all the warning Jensen received before two of Jared’s fingers breached him. Jensen bit off a moan and Jared kissed his neck, wishing he could tell Jensen to be as loud as he wanted, but he’d rather not give the gang indisputable proof of what he was up to with Jensen.

Jared worked two fingers into Jensen, teasing his thumb along the rim. In part, he wanted to make sure that Jensen was comfortable, but this was also retribution for Jensen being such a damn tease earlier.

Jensen pushed his face against Jared’s neck with an impatient whine. “C’mon.”

Jared pressed a little deeper. “Patience, grasshopper."

Jensen huffed and Jensen nuzzled his temple with a small smile, continuing his slow pace until he has three fingers in Jensen. There were wet spots on his T-shirt where Jensen’s cock dragged across the fabric with each impatient push of his hips, but Jared didn’t mind, only quickened his pace.

“Please, Jared.” The words were accompanied by harsh breaths.

"Shh." Jared rubbed his free hand up and down Jensen’s quivering thigh. “I got you.”

He didn’t hold back after that, pushing in deep and picking up speed as Jensen loosened around him. Jared twisted and scissored his fingers in an undulating motion that made Jensen feel lightheaded and dizzy. Colors burst across Jensen’s vision and he gasped when Jared found that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of him. Jensen bit down on Jared’s shoulder, stifling a stream of broken pleas. His hips snapped back like a  forceful counterpoint to Jared’s hand. A tremor coursed through Jensen’s body when Jared snaked a hand between their chests, fingers curling around Jensen’s straining dick in a loose fist.

“Jay,” Jensen moaned, sweat glistening on his forehead. The room felt too damn hot and too close, skin too tight and stretched uncomfortably across his bones. “Jay, I—”

Jared continued to work Jensen open at the same measured pace and Jensen squirmed, wrecked moans spilling from his throat.

Rather than trying to keep up a rhythm, Jared grew still then, letting Jensen take what he needed.

Jensen keened, fucking himself back on Jared’s fingers and then forward into his hand, fast and sloppy until he came, a sob tearing through him that Jared felt more than heard.

Jared pulled out slowly, rubbing his thumb over Jensen’s hole until all tension left him and Jensen sagged against Jared like a rag doll. Jared gently lowered them both back to the pillows, Jensen sprawled out on top of him, lax and out of breath. When the fog lifted from Jared’s brain, he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a pack of Marlboro from the drawer.

Jared rarely ever smoked anymore these days. Quite frankly, he had always been more of a social smoker than a real addict. But he couldn’t deny how much he loved the way the nicotine soothed his nerves after a good fuck.

“Want one?” Jared shot a glance over at Jensen, who looked tousled and flushed and so damn gorgeous with that pleasure-glazed, fucked-out look on his face. He looked _debauched_ like this, hair curling with sweat, cheeks a mottled pink, stomach glistening with come. Something primal inside of Jared roared with pleasure at the sight.

Jensen used to devour cigarettes after sex, but this time, just when he made to reach for the pack of smokes, the expression on his face changed, a troubled look taking hold of his features. “I…” He licked his lips. “I want to quit.”

Jared frowned. “Yeah?”

Jensen nodded, but there was something in the way his eyes flicked to the side almost guiltily, something that twisted Jared’s stomach into knots. He blew out a cloud of smoke and sat up in bed,  intending to get to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on in Jensen’s mind when Jensen suddenly changed the topic.

“Jay, we can’t keep going like this.” Jensen sighed, rolling off of Jared and pulling the blankets up higher around him. “Staying cooped up in this house, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“What are you saying?” Jared scoffed.

“If we are gonna fight this battle, we need to take matters into our own hands.” Straightening up, Jensen leaned back against the headboard and turned to face Jared. “Maybe Jack was right. Maybe we should work with him and hit Ty where he least expects it.”

“No way.” Jared dismissed the idea with a firm shake of his head. “We’re not working with him.”  

The mere suggestion pissed Jared off, heart speeding up in his chest as he angrily stabbed out his cigarette. Why did Jensen have to go and ruin the after-sex glow by starting an argument?

“Alright, it’s your call to make. Just…” Jensen looked away. “This was the second attack on one of our own in a week. And all we do is sit around in this house, taking _watch._ ”

Jensen didn’t mean it as an accusation. He knew that Jared was only trying to keep them safe. They were no longer the dumb kids they’d been five years ago when this whole thing had started. They had grown-up over the years and now their son was involved, which made everything so much more complicated. Jared didn’t want to put them in the line of fire, Jensen got that. But the longer this whole thing dragged itself out, the longer it would take for them to return back to New Haven, to their old lives with a stable job and a house and a safe environment for Kelly to grow up in.

“I was thinking, maybe we should ask Danneel or Misha to take care of Kel. Just until this thing blows over.”

Jared looked outraged. “Misha? You wanna leave our son with Misha while the Reapers are on our case?”

Jensen shot Jared a glare. “Misha’s not as fucking dumb as you make him out to be.”

“I’m sure as fuck not handing our son off to a college student who doesn’t know the first thing about kids.” Jared swung his legs off the mattress, fumbling to put his clothes back on.

“Why? Because Kel’s so much safer with us?” Jensen challenged. “Right now Kelly would be better off with _anyone_ other than us! He’s traumatized already and you and I both know that this fight is long from being over.”

“Then what the fuck do you think we should do?” Jared bellowed, eyes ignited as he threw his arms out to the side. He was loaded with anger, a fire burning in his guts that was usually best left alone.

Jensen opened his mouth for a response when the sudden chirping of a phone interrupted them both. It took a moment for them to recognize the annoying sound for what it was, the rising crescendo of Jensen’s ringtone breaking the moment as quickly as it had come.

Jensen’s mouth snapped shut, his face rapidly draining of all color when Jared made a move towards the nightstand, reaching for the phone.

“Don’t!” Jensen shrieked, lunging forward to grapple with his ringing cell phone. He damn near dropped the damn thing in his haste to get it away from Jared.

“The fuck’s up with you?” Jared demanded. “You seriously gonna get that, now?” he growled out, pissed at Jensen for deeming some random phone call more important than their conversation.

Jensen stared at the screen of his phone like the thing had insulted his mother. Something inside of Jared tightened at Jensen’s fearful expression. It had Jared’s guts twisting with unease, the way Jensen looked so scared and confused, clutching his ringing phone like a goddamn lifeline.

“Jensen. The fuck’s going on? Who is that?”

Jared’s voice seemed to snap Jensen out of his dazed state.

“I… uh, I need to take this,” he stammered out and Jared’s frown deepened. Because Jensen was rarely ever at a lack of words. Few things could make him lose his eloquence. “It’s Danni. She’s… I think she’s in trouble.”

Jensen’s voice came out wrong, somehow. And he wasn’t meeting Jared’s eyes. He shrugged out of his shirt, wiping his chest before tossing it to the side and then put on ripped jeans and a clean Henley.

No time for a shower? Things had to be fucking serious.

“How do you fucking figure?” Jared challenged, head spinning with how fast this whole situation escalated. “You haven’t even picked up the damn call, yet.”

“Look, I should probably…” Jensen cursed and drove a hand through his hair as he continued to stare at his screen. Then he shoved his cell into his pocket and grabbed the keys to the car on his way to the door. “I’ll explain it to you when I’m back, okay? She’s been dating this guy and he got real possessive and pissed at her for talking to other guys. I’m just gonna drive by and see if she’s alright, okay?”

“Wait. _Jensen._ Hold on for a goddamn second, would you?” Jared tried to stop his boyfriend, but Jensen was already out the door, leaving Jared to stare after him in shock and bafflement.

The fuck had just happened?

 

 

"What do you mean trouble? She's okay, right?"

"I don't know man," Jared sighed, wiping the grease off his fingers. “That’s all he fucking told me.”

Jared should have known telling Chris was a bad idea. But he the way Jensen had set off in a haste had worried him. Thing was, Jensen didn’t need an enforcer. He could hold his own in a fight. What happened last night only served to prove the point. But Jared still felt sick at the thought of his boyfriend all by himself, possibly getting tailed by one of Ty’s watch dogs. It took about every inch of self-control he possessed not to go running after that secretive bastard.

Unfortunately, Chris didn’t really _do_ self-control.

"I'm gonna kick that fucker’s ass," Chris decided, snatching his jacket from the battered shop chair and putting it on. His movements were hasty and uncontrolled, the tension and rage coming off of him were palpable as he grabbed his keys. "If she’s hurt, I’m gonna break every damn bone in that motherfucker’s body, I swear.”

"No, you won’t," Jared said. "You dumped her, remember? What, now she can't go on dates with other guys?”

"Not if they’re assholes who can't respect women for shit. Danni deserves better."

"Yeah, like what? A guy who genuinely cares about her? Gee, I wonder where she’ll find someone like that.”

Chris was breathing hard, nostrils flaring with anger. "Fuck you, Jay. You don't know fucking shit about her!”

"Maybe," Jared said. "But at least I know that if you're gonna go to her, it shouldn’t come off like some jealous caveman-act. Cause that's only gonna make it fucking worse."

Chris stared at him with wild eyes for another moment, before the intensity of Jared's stare caused him to back down. He locked his jaw, all that pent-up anger still working him over from the inside out, fingers shaking as he unclenched his fists with obvious effort. "Fine. But if that fucker messed with her, I’ll break his fucking neck.”

"Fair enough.” Jared conceded. He had no doubt that Chris was going to make good on his promise if any asshole was stupid enough to lay hand on Danneel. Hell, Jared would be right next to him, showing that asshole what happened to those who crossed their friends. But for now, Jensen had it handled.

"Work with me to get her back in shape, will you?" Jared asked, focusing his attention back on the Ducati.

Begrudgingly, Chris plopped back down on the shop seat with a long-suffering sigh. He rolled up his sleeves and fished a cigarette from his pack before dangling it from his lips. “What’s wrong with her, anyway?”

“Rings are not sealing right,” Jared explained. “Could be a number of things. Piston’s probably shot to crap.”

“Alright,” Chris agreed and lit up his cigarette. “Let’s do a compression check first and then—”

Jared was interrupted by a sudden crashing noise from somewhere within the garage. Between the screech of metal and the ground shaking beneath their feet, Jared barely managed to snatch his gun and whirl around, pointing it around the room and looking for any attackers.

“What the actual fuck?” Chris exclaimed and shoved himself to his feet.

Jared’s eyes roved around the garage until they found the source of the noise.

Through the open door that led out to the junkyard, a huge chunk of varnished metal about the size of a baby elephant had come crashing into the back of Chad’s old Pontiac, knocking over a couple of trash cans on its way. Dark smoke was curling from the trashed hood of what appeared to be an expensive looking BMW.

“Jay?” Chris asked in an alarmed voice, following Jared outside just as Genevieve and Chad came rushing out of the house with their guns drawn, wide eyes looking around for the source of the unexpected noise.

The blaring alarm of the BMW, along with the smoke that curled from its hood left them all with one hell of a befuddled expression.

“Is that my fucking Pontiac? Did they just trash my **_Pontiac?!_ ** ” Chad exclaimed once he took in the damage done to his car. “Goddamn fucking motherfuckers!”

Of all the things they would have expected from the Reapers, driving a forty-thousand dollar car into their junkyard wasn’t exactly in the top rank. The Reapers were a motorcycle gang, they didn’t _do_ cars.

In fact, the only goddamn person snobbish enough to drive a BMW in Jared’s circle of friends was…

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Jared let out, taking a few hesitant steps towards the car wreck.

“Jay?” Chris asked, worry creeping into his tone as he edged closer to Jared’s side.

“Son of a bitch,” Jared growled, stashing his gun away. He yanked the door on the driver’s side open and sure enough, a familiar mop of brown curls and a set of startling blue eyes filled Jared’s vision.

Jared cursed, cringing at the stagnant smell of booze that hung off of Tom like perfume. A near-empty bottle of Jack sat on the passenger seat of Tom’s now empty car and a whole bunch of balled up and used tissues littered the backseat. _What the actual fuck?_

“Shit. He’s drunk off his fucking ass,” Chris said, reaching out to steady Tom when he stumbled out of the car, tripping over his own feet and damn near face-planting in the process.

“I hope that drunk piece of shit has good insurance cause I’m gonna sue his ass six ways to Sunday!” Chad ranted, driving a hand through his hair and kicking the tire of Tom’s BMW with an angry shout. “FUCK!”

Turns out ‘drunk’ was the understatement of the fucking century.

“I n’d to talk to ye,” Tom slurred at Jared, pointing a finger at - nowhere even remotely near to Jared’s face.

“Jesus Christ, how much did you have?” Jared demanded and tried not to breathe through his nose to block out the smell of - every liquor known to man. Seriously, did the guy drink a whole liquor store? At six in the evening? This couldn’t be good news.

“You’re a selfish bastard, ye know t-that? Putting Jens’n through all that crap like he h-hasn’t been through enough al-already.”

“Yeah,” Jared let out a huff, shaking his head. “I’m _so_ not having this conversation with you.”

“Yes, you will,” Tom insisted, eyes ablaze with fury behind the veil of drunkenness. “Yes, you fuck’n will! Y-you took ‘im from me- you took h-him from all of us. And for what? For a life ‘n fuckin’ misery, tha’s what!”

Jared flexed his fingers with the urge to beat the self-righteous, arrogant bullshit out of Tom, once and for all.

Come to think of it, this was probably long overdue. Tom had never made a secret of how much he hated Jared, how inadequate of a boyfriend and father he thought Jared was. But this right here? Only fucking reason Jared still possessed a lick of self-restraint was because Tom was quite obviously three-sheets to the fucking wind.

“You’re _wasted_ ,” Jared snarled. “I’mma give Mike a call and he’ll—“

“‘s not fair!” Tom snarled and lunged forward to land an uncoordinated shove to Jared’s shoulder.

And that was it. Jared would put up with a lot of shit for Jensen’s sake, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to let himself be shoved around by that drunk-off-his-ass douchebag. He surged forward, his hand clenching tightly around the collar of Tom’s jacket and yanking him close. Their noses almost brushed and all he could see was the blue of his eyes, Tom’s boozy breath fanning across his cheeks.

“ _Watch it, Welling_ ,” he growled. “You’re about to _seriously_ piss me off.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t stop being a dick? Yeah, big surprise.”

“I c’n’t have kids.”

The admission was like a bucket of ice water straight to the face. Jared’s expression fell, all the anger rushing out of him in one go when he saw the broken expression on Tom’s face, the tears pooling in Tom’s eyes. He loosened his hold on Tom’s jacket and took a step back.

If the confession left them all speechless, it left Tom winded and emotionally drained. Saying it out loud must have knocked something loose inside of the guy because suddenly he was burying his face in his hands and shaking, crying like somebody had just sucked all the fucking light out of his life.

And yeah, Jared was **_so_** not the right person to have this conversation with.

“Show’s over, guys,” Chris spoke up. “Everyone, back inside.”

Jared shot him a thankful look. “You go with them. I got this handled.”

“You sure?” Chris still hovered close.

Tom wasn’t exactly a lightweight. Behind those fugly Burberry sweaters, the guy was hiding a muscular frame. And he was fucking tall, almost eye-to-eye with Jared, which meant carrying his drunk ass would be a real _bitch._ Still, Jared owed it to Mike, _hell,_ he owed it to _Tom_ to deal with this as discreet and respectful as possible.

“I’m good. Just, do me a favor and give Jen a call? Tell him what happened?”

“You got it.” Chris patted Jared’s shoulder and then jogged up the stairs, ushering the crew back inside.

“Tom, hey,” Jared said, as soon as they were alone. He manhandled Tom around so that the car was taking most of the guy’s weight and then sucked in a surprised breath when Tom latched onto him with enough force to nearly knock them both over. “Woah, woah, okay, easy…” Jared rushed to say, arms hovering hesitantly over Tom’s shoulder, unsure of how to deal with this very drunk, very upset version of Tom.

“D-doctors said… I’s genetic.”

Jared realized then, that Tom must have only just found out. He let out a deep breath and then with a surprisingly small amount of hesitation, he pulled Tom against his chest.

Sure, Tom wasn’t exactly Jared’s favorite person in the world, but somewhere beneath all the strung-up, arrogant, rich-kid-attitude, he was a decent guy. He had been there to pick up the pieces after Jared had left Jensen and he had always made Jensen’s happiness his priority. For that alone, Jared would always owe the guy, no matter what. And seeing him like this? An emotional wreck, desperate enough to let his walls down around Jared- of all people.  it wasn’t pretty. Especially knowing the reason for his sadness.

“Alright, it’s alright.”

“’s not.” Tom grabbed Jared’s shirt and twisted the fabric between his fingers. “Mike w-wants children.”

“There’s options,” Jared said. “You can adopt.”

“’s not the same,” Tom said, withdrawing from Jared’s embrace and wiping at his tears. “M-might ‘s well h-have your own with someone w-who’s not damaged _._ ”

“You’re not _damaged_ ,” Jared shook his head with a rueful smile. “Just hammered.”

“But Mike—”

Jared rolled his eyes. “ _Mike_ won’t give a fuck about whether you can have kids or not, trust me. The guy only cares about you.”

Jared watched the way Tom’s face scrunched up and the way Tom’s fingers dug into his clothes like he desperately needed to hear that he wasn’t worth any less because of this.

“Alright c’mon,” he sighed. “Let’s get your ass into bed so you can sleep this off, huh?”

 

 

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

Jensen hadn’t even _wanted_ this damn pregnancy. He hadn’t wanted another kid. Not now, of all times. Maybe not ever.

But the second he’d laid eyes on the barely-there shadow on the ultrasound screen he’d loved the tiny human with a fervor that knew no boundaries. He had thought about it as his flesh and blood- as Jared’s son or daughter, a brother or sister for Kelly to grow up with. A part of their family.

He had started brushing his hand against his belly at random moments as if to reassure his child that he would protect it at all costs. He’d pictured Jared with the new-born in his large hands, cradling it to his chest, wondered if it was going to have Jared’s hair or eye-color. He’d thought about their house back in New Haven, filled with the sound of their children's laughter as they chased each other through the hallways.

He had allowed himself to grow attached.

And now he was paying the price for it.

“Uterine anomalies account for about 20 percent of miscarriages,” Dr. Cowen said. “The uterine septum hinders the embryo from getting the nourishment it needs to survive.”

“What can I do?” Jensen asked. If there was any chance, anything at all, to enhance his child’s chances of survival, he’d do it, no questions asked.

“Surgery is an option,” the doctor explained. “During the procedure, a camera is inserted through the cervix. A wire with electrical current is extended through the camera and applied to the septum tissue.” She shoved her glasses up her nose and let out a slow exhale. “The procedure is relatively uncomplicated. As with all surgical procedures, however, there are some risks.”

“What risks?”

“Perforation of the uterus, incomplete resection of the septum and fluid overload, just to name a few.”

“Would _you_ do it?” Jensen asked, looking at her imploringly. “If you were in my position?”

“Are you asking me as a mother or as a doctor?”

“Both,” Jensen gave back.

The doctor sighed and grabbed a stack of folders from her desk.

A brief glance at the headlines was enough to make Jensen sick.

**_‘Second trimester abortion for fetal abnormality’_ **

**_‘Comparing medical versus surgical termination of pregnancy at 5-10 weeks of gestation’_ **

Jensen pointedly ignored the pamphlets and wrapped a protective arm around his middle. He felt like an invisible hand had clamped down hard around his insides, like a boa constrictor choking its prey.

“Given your medical understanding, I will be very frank with you,” she said. “I know you probably don’t want to consider it, but even if your child survives the surgery, the insufficient blood and oxygen supply up until that point would likely have caused some brain or organ damage.”

Jensen’s blood ran cold at the words.

“As a doctor?” she said. “I’d tell you to take the risk and undertake the procedure.”

Jensen swallowed. “And as a mother?”

“I’d follow my heart on what I think is best for the child.”

Jensen didn’t hear much of what she said after that. His ears were filled with white noise, his heart filled with tar, struggling to keep up its beat. He numbly took the pamphlets and stumbled out of the doctor’s office, just a few steps until his knees hit the ground, knees scraping against dirty gravel. And then he was _gagging_ , the feeling of his food burning as it moved its way up, and then relief as it finally came out of him. The taste was disgusting and it made him retch even more until finally nothing more was left to bring forth.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like this, shivering in the cold Boston air, arms shaky and barely keeping him up until the sound of his chirping phone yanked him out of his revery.

Jensen reached for it with shaking fingers before pulling himself back up onto shaky legs.

“‘lo?” he rasped down the line, shuddering in the cold.

“What the fuck, man? I’ve called you four times already.” Chris sounded pissed. “Your best bud just drunk-drove his ass into our backyard. He’s messed-up, man. You need to come quick.”

 

 

Tom woke up and wished he hadn’t. He cracked his eyes open to a dimly lit room with thick drapes and wrapped himself in the duvet, waves of nausea adding to his misery. His brain felt like it had swollen beyond its capacity and dehydration became too obvious to ignore, his dry mouth thick with dried saliva.

There was movement on the mattress next to him and Tom shot a panicked look over his shoulder, only to find out that his head felt just as bad as the rest of his body, throbbing with pain.

“Feeling like shit?” Jensen asked, giving him a sideways glance from where he sat with a mug of tea in his hands. Tom groaned and retreated further into the duvet, a flood of memories suddenly overcame him. He had crashed Mike’s car. And then he had told everyone about… Oh god. OH GOD.

Tom’s stomach lurched and gurgled. He felt his cheeks flush in absolute shame and embarrassment, tears filling his eyes as he sat and swung his bare feet to the carpet, ready to grab his shit and bail, never to be seen again.

God, he just wanted a hole to open up beneath his feet and swallow him.

“Hey, woah, take it easy, Tom,” Jensen placed a palm on his shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home,” was Tom’s curt reply. “Mike’s probably worried sick.”

“Mike’s downstairs with Jay,” Jensen retorted and Tom buried his face in his hands before sinking back to the bed, too many damn mistakes made, too big a mess to clean up, his whole life in tatters. He could only imagine what Mike thought of him now, drunk-driving his way home from his doctor’s appointment, crashing the damn car. Useless and embarrassing. _Expendable. God, he was such an idiot._

“Did you tell him?” Tom whispered. He didn’t dare to meet Jensen’s eyes, didn’t want to see the disappointment in Jensen’s gaze. The accusation. The _pity_.

“Just about the car thing,” Jensen admitted. “That one was kinda hard to hide.”

Then, after a minute, he added. “Tommy, what the hell, man? What were you thinking to get behind the wheel like that? You could have seriously hurt someone. You could have _died._ ”

Tom had never felt like he needed to hide from Jensen before. Now he could barely stand Jensen’s gaze on his skin.

“Tom. Look at me.”

Tom lifted his eyes to meet Jensen’s. His eyes were soft, like sunlight catching on dewed forest greens. There were times when Jensen got lost when he became who the world around him demanded him to be - a genius, a college professor, an artist, a father, a member of an outlaw biker gang. But this wasn’t one of those moments. This was just Jensen, his real version, stripped clean of all the other crap. And he looked at Tom like he looked at seven years of friendship, like he saw Ben and Jerry’s and late-night movie marathons and quizzing each other for exams and failing so hard at the attempt to cook a decent meal they paid 300 dollars for causing a false fire alarm.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen whispered, raw and genuine like words couldn’t even do the sentiment justice.

Tom shook his head, trying to hold back tears. The argument that had driven them both apart had come to haunt him many times since it happened.

_“Right,” Jensen spat out. “Because you know all about being a father.”_

Tom wasn’t going to lie and say that Jensen’s statement hadn’t hurt. Of course, Jensen hadn’t known back then how much damage his words had really caused, pouring salt into an already painful wound. But it was the way Jensen hadn’t even noticed how much Tom was hurting that got to him the most. Tom had only wanted for his best friend to notice. Was that too much to ask for?

“I should have been there for you,” Jensen continued. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

Tom twisted the blanket with his fingers. “They say there’s nothing they can do.”

Jensen just looked at him, at a lack of words.

“Mike doesn’t know,” Tom choked out.

“It’s okay,” Jensen offered up in a whisper, reaching out to cover Tom’s hand with his own.

“It’s not,” Tom shook his head, a tear slipping free. “It’s _not_ okay.”

“No,” Jensen said. “But it will be.”

 

 

Mike sat in his crisp suit, his hands folded in his lap as he tapped his foot beneath the table.

“You sure you don’t want a beer or something?” Genevieve asked from where she leaned against the counter.

“For the third time, no thanks,” Mike bit out and Jared felt a tinge of irritation at the way he spoke to her, knowing she was only trying to help. He tried to put himself into Mike’s shoes and deflated again, feeling empathy above all else. If it had been Jensen behind that wheel, drunk off his ass and causing an accident, Jared wouldn’t be up for fucking smalltalk, either.

But Mike wasn’t anything like him. In fact, every goddamn time Jared had met the guy, Mike had always appeared calm and collected. There was a serenity about him that had always appealed to Jared. It probably came with the job description of being a world-class lawyer. He was the best of his kind, had a reputation to keep, one that dictated their earnings, but also his public standing. The way Jared measured Mike up, it would have taken a goddamn crow-bar to crack the guy’s nerves.

But right now? Mike was a nervous _wreck_ , two seconds away from a mental breakdown. Which, in Jared’s humble opinion, said a whole lot about how deeply Mike felt for Tom, kids or no kids.

Jared drained the rest of his beer and then put the bottle down.

“I’ll go check on them.”

 

 

Jared found them pretty much the way he’d left them.

The only real difference was that now, Tom was awake and looking a whole lot more alive than when Jared had first dropped his wasted ass on that mattress earlier.

“Hey.” He leaned in the doorway. “How’s the headache?”

“I’ll live,” Tom replied, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Listen, Jared, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Jared asked. “Crashing into Chad’s Pontiac? Or for the way you puked all over me when I carried your heavy ass upstairs?”

Tom shot him a glare, probably already having expected Jared to be an asshole about this.

“I’m _kidding._ Only thing that matters is that you’re okay,” Jared said, going easy on Tom because he knew what it was like to hit rock bottom and he wasn’t a guy who kicked others when they were on the ground.

He lingered in the doorway for just a moment longer before he stepped into the room. “Jen, could you give us a minute?”

Jensen looked surprised for a second, then hesitant to leave Tom's side. Eventually, his trust in Jared won over the worry for his best friend.

“Sure.” Jensen gave Tom’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before he slid off the mattress. “I’ll be downstairs.”

As soon as the door was closed and they were alone, Tom started panicking. “Look, Jared, you can save the lecture, alright? I know what I did was inexcusable and—”

Jared rolled his eyes.  “Could you, for once, just shut up and listen to what I’m telling you?”

Tom snapped his mouth shut.

“Look,” Jared sighed, rubbing a calloused hand over his mouth. He closed his eyes, trying to come up with the right words to say and then decided to ‘screw it all’ because there was no such thing as saying ‘the right thing’ in a situation like this. “When my mother got killed, I was devastated. She was all I had and then suddenly,“ he snapped his fingers. “Just like that, she was _gone_.”

Tom swallowed thickly, gaze growing blurred as he recognized where this conversation was inevitably going.

“I was just a fucking teenager, angry and confused and no one in their right mind would have ever taken me in. But Jeff took me under his wing. He taught me how to fix bikes and how to ride them. He taught me how to talk to girls and how to play poker. He taught me to stay true to who I am.” Jared paused for a moment. “So yeah, maybe it’s not the same, but family doesn’t _equal_ blood, Tom. Jeff’s not my biological father. But he’s still my dad in every goddamn way that matters. I wouldn’t be the man I am today if it wasn’t for him.”

Jared couldn’t believe he was pouring out his heart like this to Tom Welling, of all people. But if the way Tom looked at him with those huge, watery eyes was any indication, he was getting through to him.

“And as for Mike, the guy’s fucking crazy about you,” Jared said. “To think that he’d leave you to have kids with someone else is crazy. He wants a family, okay, I get it. But I’m pretty fucking sure he doesn’t want it with anyone who isn’t you.”

Tom’s eyes glazed over again. He swallowed forcibly a few times, trying to regain his composure.

“I told Jensen to split up with you,” Tom eventually admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. His startling blue eyes shone with guilt and sorrow, his lips trembling at the admission. “And I’m sorry… I’m so damn sorry. Jensen wouldn’t want this with anyone but you, either. I think I understand it, now.”

Jared was quiet for a long moment, already having expected something like this. Then he got up from the bed and, after a moment’s hesitation, held out his hand to help Tom up. “Truce?”

Tom looked at him, wide-eyed and miserable. He let out a shaky exhale before taking Jared’s offered hand and holding it tight. “Yeah, truce.”

Jared offered up a smile and pulled Tom up into a standing position before clapping his shoulder.

“You know,” Tom sniffed. “One good thing came out of this. At least Jen and I are finally talking again.”

Jared froze, then, from one second to another, every muscle in his body coming to a full halt. His heart slowed down in his chest as he took in the words and mulled them over.  

_‘Jen and I are finally talking again.’_

“He came by yesterday, didn’t he?” Jared asked slowly, a frown forming on his forehead. “To apologize?”

He remembered it clear as day, the way Jensen had come into the garage, telling Jared how miserable he felt about his argument with Tom, how he lost sleep over the things he had said. It only now occurred to him how weird it was for Tom to blurt out this very private thing to _Jared_ , of all people, when he could have told his _best friend_ just a day ago.

“He was never there, was he?” Jared asked, shoulders knotting with tension as a ball of hot fire grew inside his chest. He didn’t even need to wait for an answer. The puzzled look on Tom’s face was confirmation enough.

Jensen had lied to him.

And Jared had a feeling that it wasn’t the first time this week.

 

 

“Here.” Jared held two beer bottles in his hand, fingers damp with condensation. He held one out to Jensen, who sat with his sketchbook in his lap, a half-finished drawing of one of Chad’s bikes staring back at him from the paper. It was just as beautiful as the rest of Jensen’s work, detailed to a fault, with sure  pencil lines and near-perfect shading.

Tom and Mike had left a while ago and Jensen had been quiet ever since, a bone-deep sadness in his gaze, whenever he allowed his eyes to wander away from the task at hand. Jared had watched him from afar for a while, waiting for something - a confession, maybe - before he couldn't stay silent any longer.

“No, thanks.” Jensen shook his head without really looking up and the tight ball of anger inside of Jared flared to new life. Jensen was lying to him so effortlessly, without a trace of fucking guilt or remorse.

Jared locked his jaw and nudged Jensen’s arm with the beer, forcing himself to put on a feigned smile. “We’ve earned it after the fucked-up day we had, don’t you think?”

Jared’s mind was racing, heart beating wildly in his chest as he watched Jensen’s reaction, watched the twitch of his cheek muscle followed by a flicker of guilt in his forest green eyes as he refused Jared’s offer.

“Sorry.” Jensen looked up at Jared. “I’m really not feeling like it.”

“Oh, c’mon. Just one sip.” Jared persisted. He elbowed Jensen in the side, just hard enough to be playful. “I’ll drink the rest, lightweight.”

The room had fallen oddly quiet around them, Genevieve and Chase watching the tense exchange with barely disguised interest from the other end of the couch, probably sensing that shit was about to hit the fan. Chris had lifted his head from where he’d been engrossed in the latest edition of ‘Cycle World’, feeling the shift of tension in the room like a physical thing. They had everyone’s attention now, all eyes on them.

“What do you not understand about ‘I don’t feel like it’?” Jensen bit out, a clear warning for Jared to back off. He clenched his teeth like an animal that was backed into a corner, scared and defensive, clear proof that Jared was on to something. It made Jared so fucking _angry_ he could barely breathe, blood whooshing through his veins at heightened speed.

“Drink it,” Jared said, low under his breath and he was no longer asking now. His glare was tearing through Jensen’s skin and bones like shrapnel, stripping him bare in front of everyone, calling him out on his fucked-up game of lies. “Drink it, Jensen, or so help me _god_.”

Blood drained from Jensen’s face as his gaze zeroed in on the bottle and Jared could tell the exact second when realization finally dawned on him. His breath grew shallow, his eyes skirting around in that panicked way that meant his mind was racing. He lifted his gaze slowly to meet Jared’s unforgiving glare and then swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Jay—”

“Do it,” Jared said and his voice was like a deep roll of thunder. No one ever ignored what Jared said when he used that tone- his words were  vibrating with the kind of authority that shook the ground like a storm.

Jensen was powerless to refuse it. He was backed into a corner, no more cards to play. _Game over._

He reached for the bottle and curled his shaking fingers around the neck.

He closed his eyes and carefully lifted the bottle to his lips, but it never made it anywhere close to his mouth. With a growl, Jared yanked the bottle from Jensen’s grasp, beer sloshing over the rim and spilling everywhere as he threw it against the nearest wall. The glass burst into a thousand shards, leaving a huge mess in its wake and they all flinched back in shock at the unexpected outburst.

“So that’s how fucking far you’d go?!” Jared snarled, cheeks flushed red and nostrils flaring. His voice boomed through every body of Jensen’s body, every vertebrae of his spine. He lifted a quivering hand to his mouth, eyes filled with tears.

“Jay, man…” Chris got up from his chair, arms raised in an peaceful gesture, but Jared stopped him dead cold in his tracks.

“Get out,” he growled, fury seeping through every pore of his body. For one, drawn-out, second, neither of them dared to move. Then Jared cleared the coffee table of several more bottles and glasses with an angry sweep of his arm, cigarettes and china crashing to the floor in a horrifying cacophony. He grabbed Chris by the shoulder and yanked him close enough to see the flicker of fear in his friend’s eyes. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

Genevieve and Chase scrambled to their feet and grabbed Chis by the sleeves of his flannel, wide-eyed and shocked. Chris stumbled back from Jared in shock before he let himself get dragged out of the room, leaving Jensen behind with Jared.

As soon as they were alone, Jensen got up from the couch, eyes brimming as he opened his mouth in search for an excuse or an apology - anything at all to make this better, to make up for his lies, for his betrayal. But Jared didn’t want to hear it.  

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” he ground out, chest heaving with how hard it was to even just look at Jensen right now. Jared had never - not ever - looked at his boyfriend and felt so much rage before.

“No cigarettes, no alcohol… no coffee. Then there’s the way you flinch whenever I touch your stomach. That should have been the thing that tipped me off, but I just couldn’t believe that you’d keep something so big- _so fucking important_ \- hidden from me. So I dismissed the thought, telling myself that no way, no fucking way would he lie to me about this now, in the situation we are in.”

“Jay.” Jensen shook his head, visibly fighting with his own emotions.

“I called Danneel,” Jared spat out. “Guess how fucking surprised I was to learn that she hasn’t spoken to you in over two weeks. Oh and Tom? That little loving reunion between you two? _Never happened._ In fact, the guy was so upset about the shit you said to him during your argument, that he damn near killed himself drunk-driving his ass all across Boston in search of a fucking friend to confide in!"

“Stop,” Jensen bit out, visibly hurting now. A tear spilled from his brimming eyes and he was shaking all over, wrapping an arm around his middle as if to hold himself together. The movement was probably subconscious, but it was the last straw to break the camel’s back. The ultimate proof to what Jared was dreadfully suspecting, because Jensen had always covered his stomach like that, back when he was pregnant with Kelly. Every time when he’d felt the need to protect himself or their unborn child. Just like he did now. “Stop it, please.”

“And then,” Jared let out an ugly, bitter laugh. “Then I found something in your drawer.”

Jensen bit his bottom lip, more tears spilling over his cheeks.

Jared pulled a couple of crinkled looking pamphlets from his jacket and shoved them at Jensen’s chest. He had found them hidden away under a few pictures of Kelly and a few half-finished sketches and his heart had died a slow and painful death in his chest when he read what the pamphlets were about.

“Tell me it’s not true.”

The look of abject horror on Jensen’s face when he stared down at the brochures in his hands would haunt Jared forever.

“ ** _Tell me_ ** it’s not fucking true!” Jared demanded, his voice catching in his throat.

Jensen flinched back from the sound of Jared’s voice. “That’s not… it’s not what you think.”

“Did you terminate?”

“ _No!_ ” Jensen shook his head almost frantically. “No, I didn’t. I’d _never_ do that without talking to you first. You have to believe me.”

“ _Believe_ you?” Jared spat out, incredulously. “How the fuck am I supposed to believe you after what you’ve done? Fuck, I can’t even fucking look at you right now.”

“Jay,” Jensen’s voice caught on the name. “Jared, _please_ , just hear me out, okay?”

“Did you seriously think I was better off not knowing? That I would tell you to get rid of it?” Jared’s voice boomed through the house, loud enough to catch the neighbor’s attention. He didn’t give a shit. He had never felt so fucking betrayed, had never felt such anger towards the person that meant the most to him in the whole fucking universe. To think that Jensen had been lying to him, that he’d been going behind his back to hide his pregnancy from Jared like it was some… some _shameful_ thing. To think that he’d been thinking about an abortion; that he could have terminated the pregnancy without even telling Jared about it, was a breach of trust of the worst kind. It made him want to hurt Jensen in return.

“How far along are you?” Jared demanded.

“Seven weeks.”

“And the fight with Jack?” Jared snarled. “What, you didn’t care if you got hit in the stomach? If the stress caused you to lose it?”

“What other choice did I have?” Jensen growled, eyes sparking fury. “It was either losing Kelly or risking the baby. And I’m sorry, but if I have to decide between my four-year-old son and an unborn, then it’s not a choice at all.”

There was a beat of silence after that and Jared could tell from the way Jensen went pale and his eyes widened, that he noticed his own mistake a moment too late. More secrets, then. Jared’s heart sank deeper in his chest.

“Besides,” Jensen choked out. “The baby’s not gonna make it.”

“Not gonna make it?” Jared uttered, feeling numb inside. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Jensen looked positively sick, pale like a ghost and with red-rimmed eyes. His lower lip was trembling so much he had to catch it with his teeth to stop it from moving.

“It’s called a septum,” Jensen explained. “It’s an uterine anomaly that causes malnourishment and organ failure. I only just found out today, that’s why I had the pamphlets.”

“So what? The kid’s sick, so we’re just gonna fucking give up on it? Is that your glorious fucking plan?”

“The doctor was talking _brain damage,_ Jared! We can barely deal with Kelly and now we’re about to have one that might need lifelong care! Tell me how we’re gonna take care of a special needs, kid, Jay. You just lost your job, _hell,_ I’ll probably lose mine! Oh, yeah and I almost forgot, a crazy motorcycle gang wants to _kill_ us both! How, exactly, are we going to raise another child under these circumstances? Fucking tell me! HOW?!”

“We’ll work it out somehow. We always do!” Jared roared.

“No we won’t!” Jensen yelled and his voice cracked. “Not this time.”

“Don’t you fucking say that!” Jared yelled, spittle flying from his lips as he poked a finger into Jensen’s chest. “Up until ten minutes ago, you were the **_only_ ** one this kid got. You don’t fucking believe this child’s gonna live, you might as well kill it yourself!”

Jensen’s mouth snapped shut after that, the breath literally sucked from his lungs.

“I can’t be fucking here right now,” Jared shook his head and stomped out the room, slamming the door shut with a finality that caused Jensen to shiver.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the long wait, guys. I had to take a bit of a break from writing and recharge my creative batteries. I am back now for real and I promise to keep the chapters coming more regularly. The biggest motivator for me is getting positive response from the readers, so please, if you're still hooked and if you wanna see more PLEASE take a few seconds to drop me a line. <3
> 
> HUGE THANK YOU goes out to my beta Kimenem for her patience and amazing help. (She's doing some fantastic stuff of her own, so check it out if you can: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimenem/pseuds/kimenem)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings* for graphic violence, bad language, drug abuse, alcohol, mentions of abortion, mpreg, mentions of physical abuse.
> 
> I rarely ever do this. But here's a song recommendation if you like to have music while reading- 'Ludovico Einaudi ft. Greta Svabo Bech - Circles'

 

**Open Highway  
** **Chapter 7**

Jensen lost track of time after Jared left.

It almost felt like an out-of-body-experience.

He couldn’t tell if minutes or hours passed before Chris appeared by his side, gently nudging his hand with a glass of cold water. “Here. Drink.”

Chris must have realized that Jensen couldn’t handle anything beyond one-syllable commands after what happened. Sit. Breathe. Drink. That was about as much as he could muster in the state he was in, blurred eyes still fixed on the door as though Jared would reappear if Jensen stared hard enough.

“Hey, look at me.” Chris garnered for his attention, pressing the glass of water a little harder into Jensen’s lax hands.

When Jensen didn’t instantly follow the instructions, Chris let out a sigh. “Damn it, Jen,” he muttered and guided Jensen down into one of the kitchen chairs. Chris crouched down in front of him, trying to catch Jensen’s vacant gaze. “Look. I know this blows. But he’s gonna come back. You know he will. He just needs to clear his head. Get it out of his system.”

Genevieve walked through the doorway with a bottle of Jack in her hands. “And getting it out of his system could be anything from getting shitfaced drunk to straight-up killing a guy.”

Jensen shuddered at the thought. Jared had a short fuse and he was capable of pretty much everything when emotions overruled his common sense.

“Way to go, Gen.” Chase joined them in the kitchen. “You never fail to be a ray of fucking sunshine, do you?”

“I’ll tell you where to put your fucking sunshine.” Genevieve flipped Chase off and then wandered over to where Chris was crouched down in front of Jensen. She dangled the bottle of Jack in front of Jensen’s face almost tauntingly. “Might as well skip the water and go with the real deal.”

Jensen blinked up at the bottle in shock. Before he was able to formulate a response, Chris grabbed her arm and pushed her back. “You think this shit’s funny?”

“Kid’s a lost cause anyway,” Genevieve huffed. “He said it himself!”

Jensen just stared at her in shock, mouth hanging slightly agape as his heart splintered in his chest. When he’d said earlier to Jared that the baby wasn’t going to make it, he had wanted to be proven wrong. He had subconsciously tried to provoke a reaction that would give him the strength that he lacked himself. But to hear Genevieve refer to their unborn baby as a ‘lost cause’ was a whole different ball game. It pissed Jensen off, awoke a protective instinct so deep and vicious inside of him, that it shocked him out of his stupor. It was like he had been stuck in some sort of trance ever since Jared had slammed that door shut and Genevieve’s words were the catalyst to shake him awake.

Pushing up from the chair, Jensen’s whole expression morphed into one of anger.

“What’s the matter, Gen? You jealous?” he ground out, clenching his teeth hard enough to hurt his jaw. “You bitter over the fact that he didn’t want the same thing with you? Love? Kids? A family?”

“You still haven’t gotten it through that thick skull of yours, have you?” Genevieve hissed at Jensen. She took another step forward, now almost chest-to-chest with Jensen. “Jared isn’t family material. Sure, he’ll pretend for your sake, but one day, you’ll bring the kids home from daycare and you’ll find him fucking some bitch over the hood of her Honda. You think you can tame a guy like him? Tie him to your house with kids and bills and a wedding band? The harder you try, the more he’ll run, until one day he doesn’t fucking come back. So you want my humble opinion? I’d say, flush the kid out with this bottle of Jack, grab Kelly and get as far away from Jared as humanly possible.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed Genevieve’s outburst. 

“I’m outta here,” Genevieve said and stomped out of the kitchen, slamming the door in her wake just like Jared had done earlier.

Jensen flinched at the sound. He had been able to hold it together until then, but Genevieve’s words were the final push to send him over the edge. A lone tear caught on his lashes as he blinked, trying to shake the traitorous wetness off.  _ ‘Grab Kelly and run. Leave this life behind.’  _ Wasn’t that exactly what Tom had told him?

“Don’t listen to her, man.” Chris sighed and got up from his crouch, resting a palm on Jensen’s shoulder and squeezing the tense muscle there. “You know she’s just—”

“Yeah,” Jensen said, shaking Chris’ hand off. “I know.”

Why did it hurt so much, then?

 

 

“Does Jared have like, super potent sperm?” Katie asked from where she lay with her ear pressed down on Jensen’s stomach. She was staring up at Jensen from behind a tousle of brightly colored bangs, a teasing smile on her lips. “Does it permeate latex? Or are you getting so riled up from being close to each other that you can’t hold off long enough to get a condom on?”

“Katie,” Jensen admonished with a roll of his eyes.

“Wait, I know.” Katie held up a finger, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “The condom ripped because Jay gave that super-hardcore thrust and—”

“Oh god, shut up,” Jensen snapped, a flush creeping up his neck. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Does Jared go all fifty-shades-of-grey on your ass when you’re alone?” Katie laughed, visibly enjoying Jensen’s embarrassment. She was trying to take his mind off of things and he was surprised to say that it worked. Katie’s contagious happiness was exactly what he needed tonight. It was her way of making light of a situation, the way she had grinned at him - ear to fucking ear - when he’d finally told her about the baby. The way she had pulled him into a bone-crushing hug and told him it was gonna be alright, without pity or accusation or the flicker of a doubt that things would turn around.

Jensen felt his lips curve into a smile against his will. “Should I be worried that you know ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’?”

“Should I be worried that Jared keeps spontaneously impregnating you?” Katie returned with a teasing smirk and this time, Jensen rewarded her by smacking a pillow in her face. She yelped in surprise and damn near knocked a cup of steaming tea from the nightstand in the process. 

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that, Mister!” she growled, eyes twinkling as she got up on her knees, lifting the pillow for retaliation. Jensen raised his arms in defense, but the pillow never made its impact when Katie dropped it the next moment. She stuck out her pierced tongue at him and then settled back down against Jensen’s stomach. “I’ll go easy on you this time. But just because of the baby girl.”

Jensen’s heart missed a beat, expression slowly growing serious again. “The what?”

“The little princess,” Katie said like it was the most self-explanatory thing in the world. Katie didn’t have to actually voice the ‘duh’ for Jensen to hear it. “It’s gonna be a girl this time.”

Jensen felt an odd flutter of excitement at the thought. Not that it mattered, especially now when their main concern was the baby’s health. But still, thinking about a little girl with pigtails and dimples made Jensen’s heart ache with longing. It kind of made things more real, to think about the baby’s gender, to think about whether or not it would be just another spitting image of Jared or whether their second child would take more after Jensen.

“It’s the size of a freaking raspberry,” Jensen said in a small voice. “It’s not anything, yet.”

Katie smirked against his belly and it tickled. It made him smile as well, despite how shitty he felt, despite how every goddamn thought in his mind was circling around Jared.

“Raspberries are pink,” Katie reasoned with a shrug because that was just her kind of logic.

Jensen opened his mouth in response when someone knocked on the door to Katie’s apartment. Instantly growing tense, he sat up in bed and fixated the door like he half expected Jared to walk through and apologize. He should have damn well known better.

“So…” Katie rolled off the mattress and slowly walked toward the door. She toyed with one of her faded purple-colored strands and Jensen’s heart sank with dread. “Don’t get mad, alright? But I kinda might have called your friends for reinforcement.”

“What?” Jensen’s heart sank with dread.

Katie pulled open the door, revealing Misha, Danneel and Tom in the doorway.

Jensen’s jaw dropped as he stared at them. “How did you—”

“Katie called and said you needed a distraction,” Misha explained, walking in with two pizza boxes and a plastic bag full of groceries. Danneel followed, wearing one of her oversized Harvard sweaters and her glasses, a stack of DVDs clamped beneath her arm. She made a straight line for Katie’s bed and plopped down heavily next to Jensen, ruffling his hair in a way she knew he hated. “That’s for not telling us you were back in town.”

Misha followed by smacking the back of Jensen’s head. “And that’s for not telling us about Ty. We’re your friends, Jen. Who else are you going to tell about this if not us?”

Before Jensen could get a word in edgewise, Katie saved Jensen from his crazy friends by calling them to the kitchen. “Give him a rest, guys. I said _ distract _ him – not  _ pounce on him _ . Now help me find some napkins and plates. Papa John’s made a perfectly nutritious dinner for us. Can’t let that go to waste.”

Katie winked at Jensen before leading the way to the kitchen. “You guys pick a movie in the meanwhile.”

As soon as Jensen was alone with Tom, he felt nervous, rubbing the back of his neck in the awkward silence that followed. It didn’t seem like Katie had told them about the pregnancy, but then why could Jensen not shake the feeling that Tom somehow knew?

“You okay?” Tom just sat down on the mattress next to him, a look in his eyes, as if he knew every single one of Jensen’s deepest, darkest secrets. “Katie said you and Jared had a fight.”

Jensen glanced down into his lap, avoiding eye contact. He couldn’t bring himself to nod, that’s how hard it was to even just think about Jared right now.

“Jen,” Tom started and there was something in his tone that gave him away. The flick of his eyes down to Jensen’s waistline gave him away. “Jensen. Is it true?”

Jensen bit his lower lip. Somebody must have ratted him out and Jensen had a pretty good idea of who that might be. “Let me guess. You talked to Alona.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tom demanded.

Jensen huffed out a choked breath. “Yeah, ‘cause that would have gone so well. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry you can’t have kids. By the way, I’m pregnant and I might get a fucking abortion.’” Jensen’s voice wavered and he ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“You’re an idiot,” Tom said, shaking his head. He was quiet for a long moment before he wrapped an arm around Jensen’s shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “There’s nothing you can’t tell me,” Tom breathed out against the shell of his ear and Jensen barely stopped himself from resuming the waterworks. “Not ever, man. You know that.” 

Jensen offered up a wavering smile and nodded against Tom’s shoulder before he reluctantly withdrew from the embrace. When Jensen visibly fought for composure, Tom offered up a wavering smile, squeezing Jensen’s neck. “Hey, look. I know this is bad timing, but it’s still good news. You’re gonna have another kid, Jen. This is… it’s huge.”

“No it’s... “ Jensen blinked rapidly and pulled out of Tom’s hold. He wished he could just vanish from the surface of the earth to escape this impossible situation. Rationally, he knew that he should be happy about the news. But he wasn’t. They couldn't even keep Kelly safe. How were they supposed to take care of a newborn in this impossible situation? 

“I kept it from Jay and he…” Jensen squeezed his eyes shut, pressing fingers against his temple to keep the headache at bay. His mind was spinning, memories scattered in his mind. “It’s sick, Tommy. The baby’s sick, okay?”

Tom sighed and grabbed a box of kleenex from Katie’s nightstand before dropping it in Jensen’s lap. His eyes softened. “You seriously thinking about an abortion?”

“No! I mean I- I don’t _ know _ ,” Jensen shook his head, lips twisting as he fought for composure. “I can’t even think past the next five minutes right now.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to go back to New Haven,” Tom said. “Get back into a routine, distance yourself from this whole gang thing.”

Jensen wanted to do that. God, how he wanted to go back to how things were before. But he also knew that Jared wasn’t going to come with him, not with his brother back in business and Ty slowly staking his claim of South Boston’s underworld. There was unfinished business to attend to and Jared had never been one to tug tail midway through a fight. He was going to stay until Ty was dead. Or until he was.

Jensen shook his head. “Even if I wanted to,” he said. “Jay’s not gonna want me to leave.”

“It’s not his decision to make,” Tom argued. “You gotta do what’s best for you and the kids.”

Kids. 

Plural. 

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut. 

God, he was so screwed.

“I don’t wanna keep them apart,” Jensen admitted softly because that was one thing he was absolutely sure of. “Jay loves Kel more than anything.”

“Not more than anything,” Tom insisted in a soft tone and Jensen’s heart gave a painful tug in his chest. There was a moment of silence that followed his words and then their eyes met again. “Look, it’s your decision. I just think it would do you good to find some semblance of normalcy.”

_ Normalcy. _

Jensen wondered if such a thing had ever truly existed in his life.

 

 

Jared stood in a cramped, stuffy room with crooked posters hanging from the chipped walls. 

Sitting on a stool beside Rich was a half-naked boy with black, short-cropped hair and tattoos coating his entire arm. Rich was tracing the outline of an intricate eagle on the guy’s shoulder, his lip caught between his teeth and a black beanie draping off the back of his head. “Dude, I can’t just go and get shitfaced with you. I got work to do, customers to ink.”

“Yeah?” Jared growled. “Like you inked my _ pregnant  _ boyfriend?”

The twink with the black hair looked up at that, eyes wide and curious. Rich’s head snapped up and the incessant buzz that had just filled the room suddenly stopped as he switched off the stun gun. “You’re fucking kidding me,” he muttered, but judging from the look on Jared’s face realized that Jared was dead serious. Rich just stared up at him with a blank expression for a few seconds, before he let out a growl and tossed his gun onto the tray with equipment next to his client. 

“Get out, Zac. I’ll finish you another day.”

The guy still had that scrunched up, pained expression on his face that meant he’d just withstood the pain of a needle stabbing him repetitively for an hour or so. “What? But—”

“I said get the fuck out!” Rich snapped, shooting the twink an angry glare. He got up from his seat and snatched a couple of cotton balls from the counter before dropping them in the guy’s lap. “Disinfect and stay clear of water. You know the fucking drill. Now get the hell out before I make you pay double.”

The guy let out a string of curses as he pulled his tank back on. He hissed when the fabric brushed the tender skin, but the tattoo, though unfinished, looked fucking amazing. All elaborate design and perfect execution. Rich really was one of a kind. 

“You’re lucky you’re so fucking good at this, man,” the kid quipped as he grabbed his wallet and made an angry exit, stomping past Jared with a pissed expression on his face. 

“And you’re lucky I didn’t write ‘Cocksucker’ on your collarbone, dickwad!” Rich called after him and then landed a kick on the foot of the shop seat. “What the fuck, Jay? Tell me you’re joking about Jensen.”

“I need a drink,” Jared said instead. He felt the need for alcohol like a physical thing, felt the need for it like an itch beneath his fingertips. There was only one way this night would end.

“Good old times, huh?” Rich snorted. 

Jared rolled his neck. “Let’s go.”

  
  


 

Jared liked to keep close tabs on the people who crossed him - and not just because of that whole ‘keep your friends close, and your enemies closer’ crap - but because there were certain times in life when rage grabbed you by the fucking balls and there was only one way to shake that rage off. And if Jared had to let loose on someone? He’d rather rip someone apart who deserved it, rather than someone who didn’t.

So after that damn cop at the prison had taunted them, playing his sadistic little game with them and making Jared watch as he felt up his boyfriend? Jared had done a little research and tracked that son of a bitch down. Turns out Kotter had a nice little family, two kids and a wife, living the suburban dream. He also had a favorite bar called ‘Sham’s’ not too far from Roxbury. It was a dodgy shithole, the kind of place where nobody gave a fuck if you sniffed coke from the tabletop or got a blowjob in a secluded corner. 

Jared had a rule about not going after a guy without backup, even when he knew how to hold his own in a fight. That’s why he needed Rich. He could have taken Chris or Chad along, but the guys would have tried talking him out of this. Rich wouldn’t. He had a personal vendetta with the Reapers ever since those fuckers had messed with his parlor. He wanted back into the Legion. And he’d do just about anything Jared asked of him. 

Jared parked his bike in an alleyway, safely hidden from any bypassers. He lit up a cigarette and counted how many police sirens he could hear in the neighborhood in one minute. It seemed so easy, but it was a useful trick that Jeff had taught him way back when Jared spent more time in juvie than outside. If the count rose above two, the risk of getting in a tangle with the local cops was too high. 

“We’re not really getting you a drink, are we?” Rich asked, brows furrowed in suspicion. 

Jared exhaled a lungful of smoke without saying anything. 

Through a small, dirty window, he could see inside the bar, where Kotter was well on his way to getting drunk and shooting some eight-ball. Jared curled his free hand into a fist. He remembered the bruises on Jeff’s face and the way Kotter had looked Jensen up and down with that condescending smirk on his lips like the sadistic homophobe he was. The fact that the guy had done it to humiliate Jensen was enough reason to break every goddamn bone in his body. But to think that Kotter had slammed Jensen against a wall while he was  _ pregnant  _ was what had Jared seething with rage.

“See the guy at the pool table? Mid-forties? Dark hair?”

“Yeah.” Rich strained his neck to get a good look at him. “What about him?”

“I need five minutes with him,” Jared said and dropped his cigarette to the ground, not bothering to stomp it out. He pulled his gun out of his jeans, checked the magazine before stowing it away inside his jacket. “You gotta have my back, that’s all.”

He hadn’t done this in a while, causing a ruckus in public. Jensen wouldn’t approve, he’d never want Jared to do this to a married family man, not even when said fucker had groped him. But maybe Jensen’s disapproval was part of the reason why Jared was here right now. The mere thought of Jensen had Jared’s blood boiling again and Jared needed to release some of that anger. Besides, there was something about Boston that brought back a part of Jared he’d thought long lost. A part that craved blood more than it craved air to breathe.

“Jared, I don’t know if this is—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Jared growled. “I asked if you had my fucking back.”

Rich licked his lips, eyes flicking over at Kotter nervously. After a second’s hesitation, he gave a grim nod and that was all Jared needed. He was in the bar in a fucking flash, striding in and letting the door slam closed in his wake. Most of the patrons were minding their own business and no one seemed to see the dangerous glint in Jared’s eyes that meant trouble.

“Hey, Kotter!” Jared crossed the bar in two easy strides and yanked the billiard cue from the man’s hands. Before the guy was even fully aware of what was happening, Jared whirled the thick, wooden cue through the air and slammed it down hard into Kotter’s unsuspecting stomach. The guy let out a strangled grunt, jackknifing forward and Jared followed his attack with a vicious punch to the guy’s jaw before grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head up so they were only an inch apart and staring at each other. “Remember me?”

“Padalecki.” Kotter seemed to come to his senses, the name barely recognizable with all the hatred Kotter poured into it. His face was pale and he was trembling, cool sweat gleaming on his face. He wheezed, lapsing into a fit of violent coughing until blood dribbled from his split lip and coated his teeth. Broken ribs must have poked something, then. Good.

Jared gave a grim smile of satisfaction. 

“That’s right,” he said and then hauled Kotter up against the pool table, leaning in to hiss into his ear. “You will never,  _ ever  _ come close to Jeff Morgan again, you hear me? And Jensen? After tonight, if you so much as  _ look  _ at him again, they’ll never find your body. You get me?”

Kotter swallowed and gave a frantic nod as an answer. He was all sobered up now, tears running down the side of his face, into his hair and to the shell of his ears.

Jared tightened his grip on the guy’s hair before hearing Rich’s subdued voice behind him. “I think he gets it, man. That’s enough.”

Jared let go of the guy’s shirt and he sagged like a fucking bag of potatoes, legs buckling and body sliding to the ground in a boneless heap. Jared spat on the ground and picked the cue back up before slinging it over his shoulder like a baseball bat. 

Jared decided when enough was ‘enough’. 

“You’ve got cute kids, Kotter. How old’s that boy of yours? Thirteen, fourteen?”

A spark of god-honest fear broke through the thick haze of pain clouding Kotter’s vision. 

Jared towered above Kotter’s bloody face. His bone-white skin was stretched tight over blood-coated knuckles. Eyes narrowing in a way that turned the pissed off expression on his face into something infinitely more dangerous. His voice was a deep, venomous growl when he spoke. “It would be a shame if something happened to him, don’t you think?”

With that, Jared swung the cue and landed a blow to the center of Kotter’s chest hard enough to knock all the residual wind from him and crack a few ribs in the process. The guy wheezed out a pained groan before collapsing.

Jared watched him hit the ground with no small amount of satisfaction, and only when Kotter made no move to get back up did he drop the cue and turn around, facing the other patrons. He met the eyes of anyone brave enough to look, and stared them down until they backed the fuck off. 

Kotter may have been able to call the shots in prison, but on the streets of South Boston Jared was someone you didn’t want to mess with. People still knew the Black Legion around here. Even after years, they recognized the emblem on his jacket for what it was. And they knew better than to get stick their noses into gang business. 

Rich looked distraught as he stashed his gun into the back of his jeans and followed Jared towards the bar’s exit. 

In the doorway, Jared stopped only long enough to meet the eyes of the bar owner. 

“Let him bleed,” he ordered and left without a glance back.

  
  


 

They  _ did  _ go for drinks afterward.

Beating that asshole into a bloody pulp had helped to take the edge off, but the anger was still burning through Jared’s veins, the sharp sting of betrayal still deeply rooted in his bones. There was only one person to soothe that pain, but Jared wasn’t ready to face Jensen yet. Facing Jensen would mean facing their unborn child, would mean facing the fact that it might never see the light of day again and fuck, but Jared wasn’t ready for that. 

Rationally, he knew that Jensen was broken up about their fight. He was probably drowning in guilt and scared out of his goddamn mind. But that taunting little voice in Jared’s head said  _ ‘He lied to me. He told other people before me. He kept it from me for days, so why would I come running now?’. _

So alcohol it was. One shot for every goddamn time Jensen had the chance to tell him and decided to keep his mouth shut. Another round for every person Jensen told before Jared. One more for every little, insignificant lie Jensen had told him in the past week.

It didn’t take long before the world started spinning a little faster than usual and the weight of Jared’s problems became lighter, less significant.

“Dude, were you really gonna hurt the guy’s kid?” Rich slurred after a while, looking at Jared with genuine worry in his eyes and Jared was stunned into silence for a full minute, the question throwing him off. He suddenly wished he had brought Chad or Chris along after all because they would have  _ never _ felt the need to clarify. Jared flew a little hot and loose, sure, but he’d never lay hand on a fucking kid. Not in a million years.

Thing was, Jared couldn’t have the guy running around telling the police about their little encounter. So he had to use something against him that would scare him off, something that would  _ incapacitate _ him. And there was no quicker way to bring a man to his knees than to threaten his family. Another life lesson Jared had learned the hard way.

Rich seemed to read the answer from his expression because he ducked his head the next second. “Sorry, man. Forget I ever asked.” 

Jared shrugged it off. He had worked up a light buzz, but he was nowhere near where he wanted to be. 

Being drunk was Jared’s coping mechanism. A bad day at work or an argument with Jensen, hitting the next best bar and drinking until closing time was his answer. He’d stagger through dark streets, one hand on the nearest wall to keep him upright and eventually, he’d find his way home. He’d slump on the couch in their living room until Jensen woke him with a glass of water to the face or a blaring alarm held to his phone. It came naturally to him to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Jeff, as great of a surrogate father he may have been, hadn’t exactly been the easiest to talk to when Jared grew up. Somewhere along the road, a shot of hard liquor had become his go-to cure for everything - heartache, worries, guilt and self-loathing. 

The scent of cheap whisky permeated the air and somewhere in the back, Placebo was playing, a clear sign that people are high as a fucking kite all around them. At some point, they moved to a dark corner at the far end of the bar, where Rich lit up a joint and took a deep drag before handing it to Jared. They probably shouldn’t be mixing, but it had been way too fucking long since Jared had enjoyed some decent skunk and he had missed it. 

Jared took a deep breath from the joint before passing it back. He felt it now, the effects of the shots and the weed combined. He felt it in the way his body felt heavy like his legs were made of lead. His fingers were tingling and somewhere deep inside Jared knew his brain was sending him warning signals but whether his body was listening was a different story. 

He wasn’t sure when his eyes fell closed, but when he opened them again it was to the feeling of someone sitting in his lap and grinding their hips against his. There were soft, teasing nips to his bottom lip, a warm tongue soothing the sting away and delving into his mouth. It took a while for Jared to process things past the feeling of  _ ‘Yeah, fuck. Don’t stop’  _ that was connected to having someone grind against the half-hard bulge in his jeans. There was no logical thought behind his actions, just the pleasant buzz of alcohol and weed, combined with a warm, solid body on top of him. Another coping mechanism, maybe an even stronger one than getting drunk, was having sex. 

It took him a moment to realize that something felt  _ wrong _ , something  **_was_ ** wrong. 

Because the body on top of him was too curvy and those lips weren’t full enough to be Jensen’s. 

Jared’s eyes flashed open. 

Disgusted with himself, he tore himself out of the kiss, shoving the girl off. 

“Not in the mood, gorgeous?” she pouted, trailing her fake fingernails up his shirt. Jared shivered under her touch, a massive hangover already building up inside his temples.

“Get off me,” he slurred, stumbling to his feet and grappling for his jacket.

_ He could still taste her _ in his mouth, and his lips throbbed faintly in the aftermath of their kiss. 

Shit.

What the hell was he doing?

  
  


 

When Mike came to pick Tom up, Jensen asked them whether he and Kelly could stay over at their place for the night. He couldn’t imagine facing Jared tonight, couldn’t pull it together enough to pretend everything was a-okay for Kelly’s sake when it really, really wasn’t.

“You sure you don’t mind us staying overnight?” Jensen asked. Kelly was sprawled against his chest, face squished against Jensen’s neck. He was sleeping soundly, totally powered out after a day spent at the Zoo with Steve and quite frankly, Jensen was thankful for it. He wasn’t sure he could have answered his son’s eager questions about where daddy was for a minute longer without breaking down. “I mean, I could ask Katie—"

“Shut up, Jen,” Tom chided from the passenger seat. “You can stay for as long as you need.”

Jensen’s heart ached a bit at the way Tom invited them like they were family. Like he never even had to ask, their door would just always be open for him and Kelly and even Jared, if needed. He knew they meant it, too. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly and pressed a kiss to Kelly’s forehead as Mike sped down the street, houses and trees passing by in a blur. 

Mike was unusually quiet on the drive home and Jensen couldn’t say whether it was exhaustion from work or residual tension from what had happened with Tom a day ago but the silence was a tangible thing between them. Eventually, Mike pulled up in the parking lot before their house and Jensen was glad the awkward silence was finally broken. 

“You good to carry him?” Tom asked, but Jensen had already unbuckled and maneuvered his precious cargo out of the car while keeping Kelly asleep. Over the years he had become a real expert at carrying the sleeping toddler around without disturbing him. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Could you just grab the duffle?” 

“I got it,” Mike said, slinging the bag over his shoulder and closing the trunk of their expensive car with a click of his fancy little remote. There was a light drizzle permeating the cool autumn air and Mike shivered as he took the lead towards the entrance. Usually, he would have offered his coat to Tom to keep him warm, but today he merely passed by Tom on his way to the door.

Jensen couldn’t help but notice the flicker of rejection in Tom’s eyes. It was such a small thing, but somehow it made a huge difference to how they usually interacted. Somehow it drove home the fact that Jensen wasn’t the only one facing a relationship crisis. 

Once inside, Tom set up a spot on the couch for them, while Mike left to go to sleep. 

“You guys alright?” Jensen asked hesitantly as soon as Mike was out of sight. He gently lowered Kelly down against the cushions, brushing a lock of brown hair from his eyes before focusing his attention on Tom. 

“He’s okay with the ‘me not having kids’ part,” Tom said with a small lift of his shoulders. He looked tired, though, with dark circles beneath his eyes and too little color in his cheeks. “But he’s pissed because of the drunk-driving thing and he won’t—” Tom’s voice caught in his throat. “He won’t talk to me. It’s like I disappointed him so badly and he just...”  Tom’s voice tapered off, blue eyes downcast at the cold floor.

“We’re pretty fucked up, huh?” Jensen responded drily and Tom snorted. 

“Guess we are,” he said. 

At least they were in this together. 

  
  


 

_ Rain hit his skin like it would go right through. There was nothing but harsh win cutting his cheeks and icy rain drops piercing his skin and drenching his clothes. They hit his head, his neck, his and his chest with unrelenting strength, drilling deep into his flesh. _

_ Jensen’s breathing was panicked and heavy. He was numb from the cold, shaking all over. Soggy strands of hair hung lifelessly into his sightless eyes. He didn’t wear shoes as he waded through the muddy ground, sinking deeper into the dirt with each forward step. _

_ Their house loomed proudly behind iron gates, flanked by skeletal trees. At the house’s threshold lay a bundle of fabric. A soft gurgling sound filled the air, breaking the silence and Jensen crossed the distance on staggering feet. He pulled the fabric aside, rain dripping from his face, only to see a newborn peer at him with green eyes and long lashes. It was a girl. Her tiny feet kicked out and a small hand reached for Jensen’s face. The baby opened her mouth to cry, but all she managed was a quiet snuffling noise, her throat dry and sore. “Hey, shh, it’s okay,” Jensen whispered. His hand was slippery from the rain when he reached down to wrap the newborn back into the blanket and give her some warmth. “It’s okay. Don’t cry.” _

_ Jensen leaned in to pick her up when a sudden splash of red appeared on her forehead. He frowned, taking a closer look. Another drop of the red liquid hit her forehead and she began to fret and cry. With dread, Jensen looked up to see Jared looming above them in the doorway, a bullet-shaped hole in his head. Blood was spurting from the wound and dripping from his face. His eyes were dull, every trace of life gone from their depth as he reached out a bloodied hand towards Jensen, gurgling out a death-rattle as he fell to his knees. _

_ “No,” Jensen gasped, scrambling back from the threshold only to fall into a puddle of mud. His eyes were still fixated on the doorway, where Jared’s lifeless body had broken down next to the crying newborn. “No, please. Jared! Jay! No! NO!” _

_ Jensen’s hands sank into the muddy ground that could take in no more rain after the heavy downpour. Rivers ran in rippled rivulets across the ground around him but it wasn’t rain that fell from the sky. It was blood that had built rivers all around him, taking soil and debris, washing stones down the track. Blood coated Jensen’s hair and face, blood soaked his clothes and filled his mouth. It was Jared’s blood. He could taste it. _

_ Jensen was drowning in it. _

_ He couldn’t breathe. _

_ He was gasping, wheezing. _

_ Choking on it. _

_ He couldn’t— _

Jensen shot up on the couch, doubling over. He barely managed to get out from beneath Kelly’s clingy arms before he stumbled towards the bathroom. His knees hit the tiles hard and before he knew it he was retching, both arms propped up against the toilet seat as he threw up all the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl.

When the worst of it was over and Jensen’s arms threatened to give in beneath him, Mike appeared behind him with a cool cloth in one hand and a water bottle in the other. He was in a pair of black silk pajamas, eyes half-lidded and drowsy with sleep. “Here,” he said, a worried frown on his forehead. He handed Jensen the water bottle, watching closely as he capped the bottle and rinsed his mouth before taking a few swigs. “Guess I should be glad that Tom’s never gonna feel any of that, huh?” Mike eventually asked and there was a bitterness to his tone that gave his own hurt away. 

Jensen coughed and wiped his mouth with a washcloth before pulling himself back to his feet. He swayed, feeling like crap, and Mike caught him before he could fall. “Easy,” Mike said, brow furrowing in concern as he gently grasped Jensen by the elbows, steadying him. “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“No,” Jensen shook his head, trying to pull out of Mike’s grasp. “I’m fine.”

“Jensen,” Mike held on tight. “You look like death warmed over. Should I call Jared?”

“No!” Jensen said, more vehemently. This time he did manage to shake off Mike’s supportive touch, resolutely pushing his friend away. “I said I’m fine.”

“I can see that,” Mike said with a disapproving frown on his forehead. He leaned back against the doorway as Jensen moved past him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“You know,” he started again, following Jensen into the kitchen. “I imagine it would be easier to deal with all this if you had Jared by your side.”

Ignoring him, Jensen opened Tom’s fridge and grabbed a bottle of OJ before pouring himself a glass. It was more a distraction than anything else, but Mike seemed to be on a roll. “I know what you’re doing here, Jensen.”

“Drinking juice?” Jensen asked innocently, raising an eyebrow.

“Playing the martyr,” Mike corrected. “Pretending that you’re all alone in dealing with this when it’s you who isolated himself from everyone. You’re _miserable_ and yet you’d rather suffer alone than to let Jared in and take some of that weight that you’re carrying.”

Jensen set his glass down on the kitchen counter. “Don’t confuse your problems with mine.”

“I’m not.” Mike’s lips pressed together, thinning into a narrow line.

“Yes, you are,” Jensen accused. “And you’re a goddamn hypocrite at it.”

Mike raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Jensen stood his ground, lifting his chin and squaring his shoulders. “You’re pissed because Tommy got to a point where he thought drunk driving his ass into a car was a better option than talking to you.” 

The words sounding cruel, even to his own ears. But Jensen took a deep breath and forced himself to continue. “Tom thinks he’s  _ worthless _ , Mike. And yet you’re standing here, trying to give  _ me _ relationship advice. I might not have majored in psychology, but I’d say whatever you’re trying to say to me here is actually meant for someone else. If you’re so fucking keen to strike up a serious conversation at 3 AM, how about you go and talk to Tom, instead?”

Loaded with emotions, Jensen was, for once, not in the mood to talk about his problems. His heart was still racing and his fingers were still shaking from the horrible nightmare, images of Jared’s lifeless eyes on endless replay in his mind. He felt dirty all over like he could  _ feel  _ the oily sensation of Jared’s blood coating his skin, drenching his hair and clumping his lashes. He needed a shower and a good night’s sleep. He needed to think more and talk less.

“I’m gonna go back to sleep,” Jensen muttered, suddenly feeling drained of his last energy reserves. He took a step forward when Mike’s hand shot out to wrap around Jensen’s arm.

“Tom thinks he’s worthless?” Mike asked in a small voice. “That’s what he said?”

Jensen sighed. “He thinks you’ll leave him for someone who isn't  _ ‘broken’ _ .”

“That’s bullshit,” Mike forced out through gritted teeth. His long fingers dug themselves into Jensen’s skin. “I would never leave him because of this.”

“I know,” Jensen gave back softly and then untangled himself from Mike’s hold with a tremulous smile and a nod toward the staircase that led up to the bedroom. “Go talk to him.”

Mike pursed his lips and looked away. “You know I stand by what I said earlier, Jensen. Jared is hurting, too. You’ve had time to come to terms with this and he’s only just found out. It’s gonna take him a while to come around, but you owe it to him and to yourself to figure this out as a family. It’s a privilege to have one, Jensen. A privilege that Tom and I will  _ never _ have. And you should consider yourself lucky.” 

With that, Mike turned around and walked towards the staircase, about to have a conversation that was long overdue. 

Jensen watched him go with the images of a green-eyed baby girl in his mind and the urge to wash Jared’s blood off his skin.

He walked back towards the couch and picked up his phone, unlocking it with shaking hands. There were several missed voicemails and text messages. Jensen just wanted to hear Jared’s voice, just for a second. Just to reassure him that he was whole and alive. 

His thumb hovered over the speed dial, but just before he pushed the call button, Jensen stopped himself, going to his voicemail instead. Maybe Jared had left him a message.

He couldn’t call Jared now, in the middle of the fucking night. Besides, Jared was probably still out somewhere, getting shitfaced drunk. Besides, Jensen wasn’t some freaking high school girl with a crush. He could go one night without hearing his boyfriend’s voice. 

“Shit,” Jensen growled out in frustration when the mechanical voice recited the date and time of his first recorded message. 

_ ‘You have two missed messages. Wednesday at 3:31 PM: ‘Hey guys. This is Sophia. Since you two left so abruptly last week and I haven’t heard from you since, I just thought I’d check in and ask if everything was alright. Let me know if there’s anything I can help with. I’m kind of worried about you. Just… call me back, okay?’ _

Jensen sighed and deleted the message. Then went on to the next. With everything going on around them, it had been easy to forget about the life they’d left behind in New Haven. But there were people they had left behind, bills to pay, responsibilities to tend to. Kelly had missed a few days of preschool and there was only so much time Jensen could take off from work before Fuller became suspicious. 

Speak of the devil.

_ ‘You have one missed message. Friday at 7:18 PM: ‘Jensen, this is Kurt Fuller. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this policy, but staff members are required to send in a doctor’s notification on the first day of their sick leave. My secretary hasn’t received anything from your side and quite frankly, I was a bit concerned by your boyfriend’s demeanor in my office. I hope you know that we have an open door policy here at Harvard. Should you be facing private problems of any kind, I’m always here if you need to talk... On another note, it might interest you to hear that a few renowned, local artists have signed up for your upcoming exhibit next week. The media coverage will be bigger than expected. This is a very big opportunity for you to gain some attention as an emerging artist, Jensen. It would be unthinkable if you missed it.” _

Jensen closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He had completely forgotten about the damn art exhibit. It was already in a few days and Jensen hadn’t even finished all of his paintings, yet. After what happened with Katie, any thoughts about his art had been erased from his mind. Jensen had worked hard to be able to showcase his art in a public environment, the school had offered him funding for it. There was no fucking way he could miss it. 

_ ‘Should you be facing private problems of any kind, I’m always here if you need to talk…’  _

Fuller’s words reverberated dauntingly through Jensen’s mind. 

They made him sick to his stomach, the mere thought of going anywhere near the Dean of the faculty was making his palms sweaty. Fuller had been nice to Jensen - almost _ too _ nice and Jensen didn’t appreciate the special attention. His words on the phone had confirmed Jensen’s fear about the kind of perception the faculty members had about his boyfriend. With the way Jared had acted in the guy’s office the other day, Fuller probably thought Jared beat Jensen and Kelly up at home. And the last thing they needed right now was for that nosy slimeball to sick CPS on them.

Jensen let out a heavy breath and sank his shoulders, making a decision.

The clock was ticking. Their old life was catching up with them and they were no closer to getting rid of Ty and the Reapers than they had been when all of this started.

It was time to go home.

 

 

Genevieve was just as drunk as Jared when he stumbled through the door of Chad’s house after four AM. She was sitting on the couch in one of Jared’s old shirts, the large piece of fabric practically dwarfing her slender body. A half-finished bottle of Jack was precariously balanced in her lap as she looked up at Jared from behind smeared makeup and clotted mascara. “You’re home late,  _ daddy _ ,” she slurred drunkenly at him as he slumped down on the couch next to her. “College boy’s pretty upset, you know?”

Jared felt like his head was about to explode, the whole world was spinning around him. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was Genevieve’s sarcasm, so he flipped her the bird and settled back against Chad’s leather couch, not even bothering to take off his leather jacket or jeans. “Fuck off.”

Genevieve, however, had other plans for him. She crawled up Jared’s body and sat down on his lap. “Remember when I got that pregnancy scare, Jay? Back when we were still fucking around? And when I told you, you said that it probably wasn’t yours and that  _ if _ it was, I better get rid of it?”

Genevieve let out a bitter chuckle and Jared turned his face away, the memory shameful now. The thought of having kids with  _ anyone  _ had been Jared’s worst nightmare six years ago. He had been a stupid, reckless kid, back then, more concerned about catching an STD than losing his life in a gunfight.

“You  _ weren’t _ pregnant.”

“But what if I’d been?” she challenged, eyes narrowed to slits. “Would you’ve told me to get rid of it? To give the kid up for adoption?”

“Probably, yeah,” Jared growled and then pushed her back with a firm palm to the shoulder. He wasn’t proud of it or anything, but Jared knew himself and he knew that the prospect of having a family with Genevieve would have scared him out of his goddamn mind. It was kind of incredible what a huge difference love could make. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

He slumped back against the cushions, barely managing to pull his feet up onto the couch before his eyes fell shut.

With a huff, Genevieve rolled off of him. 

She stared at Jared for a long moment, taking in the way he fell asleep so easily after the bombshell he had just dropped on her. Jared had never loved her like he loved Jensen. And that was something she could live with. But to know that Jared was willing to turn into a family man for Jensen, that he was going to be a doting father of two, talking to Jensen’s baby bump and singing their kids to sleep, it almost  _ killed _ her.

She heard the lock in the hallway turning and froze. 

Someone was coming.

 

 

Jensen was nervous as he walked up to Chad’s house, pocketing the keys to their Camaro as he jogged up the stairs to the porch. He was still angry at Jared, still hurt over some of the things his boyfriend had said, but he also realized that they needed to talk. He needed to tell Jared about his decision to take Kelly back to New Haven. 

He took a deep breath before gripping the handle of the door. It was quiet inside, with most people still asleep, but Jensen hadn’t been able to wait until after sunrise. The images of his nightmare were still too fresh in his mind.

Walking into the living room, Jensen came to an abrupt halt when he spotted Genevieve.

“Jensen?” she asked and Jensen just blinked at her for a moment, shocked at the sight of a loaded firearm being pointed at him. 

“Put that thing down,” he said. “It’s just me.”

“I almost shot you!” She flicked the safety back on and stepped out from behind the kitchen counter and that was when Jensen noticed that she was wearing one of Jared’s old flannel shirts and what appeared to be nothing else beneath. It didn’t have to mean anything. Jared kept his shirts strewn across Chad’s place like he was trying to mark his territory with it. She must have been drunk and put it on to get more comfortable. 

“Jay’s fucking comatose,” Genevieve snarked and then dropped her gun back on the counter. There was a flicker of something in her eyes. Self-righteousness, maybe. Jensen couldn’t really put his finger on it. He watched with a frown as she walked over to the couch, where Jared was sleeping his latest bender off. 

The lights were off and Jared was lying with his head angled to the side, still in his clothes from the night before. The smell of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume drenched Jared’s clothing. But that wasn’t the worst of it. In the first rays of sunshine that filtered in through the curtains, Jensen could see the faint outline of lipstick on Jared’s neck. 

“Guess I wore him out,” Genevieve said with a cocky little smirk, stroking her fingers over the side of Jared’s face in a loving caress. 

Dread, cold like ice, formed in the pit of Jensen’s stomach as he stared at her.

He just stood there for a beat or two, rooted to the spot until his vision blurred. He stumbled back and accidentally bumped into the coffee table. And that was all it took for Jared to rouse. He flinched at the sound of furniture screeching across the floor and blinked bloodshot eyes open to the world around him. 

“Jen?” Jared asked drowsily, rubbing a hand over his tired features. He looked gorgeous, even with the five o'clock shadow and the dark circles under his eyes and Jensen wanted to punch him. “Jensen? Y’alright?”

Jensen wasn’t listening. The earth tipped and slanted and the world dissolved like static in his ears. His fingers were curled into fists, his breathing was heavy and erratic. He looked from Genevieve back to Jared and then stumbled back, out of the room without another glance back. 

He hurried up the stairs to the guest room and pulled a duffle bag from the bottom shelf. He grabbed it and started tossing Kelly’s clothes into the bag. Blankets, bibs, socks and toys, then some of his own stuff, boxers and shirts and holey jeans. He was like a man possessed, ripping open drawers and shoving contents haphazardly into the duffle like he was the cashier on the not-so-lucky end of a bank robbery. 

“What are you doing?” Jared rounded in on Jensen, out of breath and confused.

“Packing our shit,” Jensen said, voice devoid of emotion.There were tears in his eyes but he wouldn’t let them fall. His hands were shaking but his eyes were hard when he looked up to meet Jared’s gaze. “What does it look like?”

Jensen tried to shove past him but Jared was quick. He blocked the way, all squared shoulders and tense muscle and if Jensen didn’t know that Jared would never hurt him, then the way Jared towered over him would have scared him. 

“Oh no, you aren’t. Not like this,” Jared growled and grabbed the strap of Jensen’s duffle bag, holding him in place. “First you don’t tell me about my own fucking kid, then you wanna run out on me? Is this how we’re gonna fucking deal with this?”

“I don’t fucking know, Jared. Is it?” Jensen snarled. “I’m not the one who runs out on his fucking family every goddamn chance he gets. I’m not the one coming home - coated in blood and fucking _ lipstick _ \- after an argument!” 

Jared took a step back at the words, mouth dropping open and it only occurred to Jensen then, that Jared had probably gotten so drunk, so completely wasted, that he didn’t even remember anything that happened before he blacked out on Chad’s couch. 

Reaching up to his neck, Jared found the residual lipstick there and rolled his eyes when realization hit him. “Seriously? This? This is  _ nothing _ , Jensen. It was some random girl in a fucking bar. I was drunk and she got a little handsy.”

“Some random girl, huh?” Jensen snorted bitterly. “God, you’re such a fucking liar.”

Jared’s expression morphed from shock and confusion into a sneer. He took a threatening step closer, rising up to his full size and towering over Jensen. His eyes were dark and stormy with anger. “What did you just say to me?”

“Was she worth it, at least?” Jensen hissed. “Was it good for you?”

Jared got right into Jensen’s face and for a beat or two, there was nothing but suffocating silence between them. A tear fell from Jensen’s lashes and Jared stepped closer, catching it with his thumb. “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

He took a step back again, eyes never leaving Jensen’s as if he dared him to look away, to defy him, to say that he wasn’t speaking the truth. “There was a girl in a club and she kissed me. I told her off. End of fucking story. So help me god, Jensen, if you seriously think I’d fuck around behind your back after you told me you’re  _ pregnant _ , you might as well pack your shit and leave. I’m not gonna come after you if you think so little of me.”

Jensen curled his lips into his mouth and pressed the palms of his hands against his eye socket to prevent more tears from falling. His shoulders were shaking and Jared was so fucking close, so  _ sincere _ . He wanted to trust Jared, wanted to believe him but he didn’t know what to believe in anymore. “Fuck, Jay. You can’t just—” Jensen turned around, swiping angrily at his eyes. “You can’t do this!”

It wouldn’t be the first time Genevieve lied to come between them. 

Jared captured Jensen’s chin with his hands and lifted his face until Jensen’s gaze met his own again. “Nothing happened,” Jared repeated firmly. “You  _ know  _ that.”

Jensen leaned into the touch for all but a second, before he pulled away. He dumped his duffle bag on the bed and pressed his palm against his forehead, closing his eyes against the biting sting of tears. “It doesn’t matter, Jared. Whatever happened, I… I came to to tell you that I’m leaving. I’m taking Kelly back to New Haven.”

“You wanna leave now? While the Reapers are on our case and just waiting for a chance to hit us?” Jared pointed a finger at Jensen’s chest. “You were the one who wanted to stay in Boston when all of this began! So why now? What changed?”

Jensen snatched Jared’s hand from where it was poking his chest. Jared’s knuckles were busted from punching something or someone repeatedly, skin split wide open and blood everywhere. He held his boyfriend’s hand up, close to his face, forcing him to look at it.

“This,” Jensen said, looking back up at Jared imploringly. “ _ You _ ’ve changed! You run around like a loose cannon, Jay. You beat people up and then you come back home and pick Kelly up with blood-coated hands. You wear your gun to the fucking grocery store and you get hammered to a point where some  _ bitch _ feels you up in your sleep!”

Jared let out a huff of air, nostrils flaring. “Don’t even play that fucking card, Jensen. You were the one who messed up this time, so don’t fucking try to turn this shit around on me.” 

“You’re right, I did,” Jensen said, much calmer now. His grip tightened around the straps of his bag, his resolve hardening as he stared into Jared’s beautiful eyes. “I lied to you and I kept this huge thing from you and that wasn’t fair and  _ I’m sorry.  _ But I did it because I was scared, Jared. I’m scared, okay? Scratch that, I’m fucking terrified.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of losing you!” Jensen gave back. “That’s what I’m always afraid of. _Constantly._ And it’s got me to a point where I’m willing to risk my own health and the wellbeing of our children just to be by your side and I _can’t._ I can’t keep going like this anymore, Jared.”

“What are you saying?” Jared asked, suddenly sounding broken, scared. 

“I love you,” Jensen said. “But Kelly, he can’t be here for this. And I don’t think I can, either.”

Jensen knew how hard this was for Jared, how much he probably didn’t want to let Jensen or Kelly out of his sight after everything that went down in South Boston. But he said nothing, just looked at Jensen with that soulful look in his eyes, the one that somehow managed to be guilt and sorrow and love at the same time.

“I can’t leave the gang,” Jared gave back in a raw tone. “Not now.”

“I know,” Jensen said and nodded. “I don’t expect you to. This isn’t an ultimatum, Jay. All I’m saying is that I -  _ we _ -” Jensen smoothed his hand down his belly. “Need a change of scenery.”

Jared followed the movement of Jensen’s hand with his hazel eyes. He licked his bottom lip, visibly fighting for composure. “Do you want this kid?”

Jensen blinked. He knew Jared would eventually support him, no matter what. But it would break his heart if Jensen decided not to have it. He pressed his lips together and nodded, voice shaky when he spoke. “Yeah. I do.”

“Okay,” Jared nodded and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “That’s… that’s good.”

“Yeah,” Jensen echoed softly. He was so relieved, so utterly, completely relieved to hear Jared say that he wanted to have another child with Jensen, that he wanted for their kid to live, just as much as Jensen did. “I’ll be more careful. I’ll do whatever the doctors recommend. Those pamphlets... Jared, I never really considered that.”

“I didn’t think you did,” Jared sighed. “Jensen, if Ty finds out about this—”

“He won’t,” Jensen said, squeezing Jared’s hand.

“I’ll tell Chris to go with you.”

Jensen was already shaking his head before Jared had finished. “Jay, no. Our friends have a life of their own. They can’t just drop everything and—”

“It’s either that or you’re not leaving,” Jared said, pulling Jensen in until his smaller body was safely caged in between his strong, tattooed arms. “I’ll be damned before I let you go without someone to have your back.”

“It’s not like you haven’t been protective before,” Jensen commented drily.

“No,” Jared fanned his hand protectively across Jensen’s stomach. “Guess I’ve got twice as much to protect, now.”

Jensen swallowed. 

They had twice as much to lose, too.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. Thanks for reading! I hope you liked the new chapter. I know the boys have been fighting a lot, but it's gonna get better from here. I won't be able to keep them apart for long because they are magnets. 'duh' (to say it with Katie's words). If you can spare me a minute of your time to drop me a note, I would highly appreciate it! Reviews are the best motivation... <3 
> 
> Many thanks to my fantastic betas ficluv and Kimenem for their patience to put up with my 4 million drafts and for turning them into something coherent & enjoyable ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings* for mpreg, mentions of miscarriage, graphic violence and bad language.

**Open Highway**  
**Chapter 8**

Jensen liked to think that he didn’t need a chaperone, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a whole lot better leaving Boston with Chris by his side.

Over the years, Chris had become one of Jensen’s closest friends, a brother almost. For all his hardass attitude, he was a good guy, loyal and affectionate and with a protective streak so strong it came close to matching Jared’s. Chris would lay down his life for any of them and he’d do it with a smile on his face. There was no one in the gang who would watch out for Jensen and Kelly with the same dedication and vigilance as Chris would. Which was why Jared had asked him to do it.

Still, Jensen couldn’t help but feel guilty as he watched Chris say his goodbyes to the gang, hugging them and telling them to take care of themselves. It was heart-wrenching, not because of the distance - New Haven wasn’t far, after all - but because of their situation.

“You sure about this?” Jensen asked hesitantly, blinking against the sunlight that reflected off the hood of his car to meet Chris’ eyes.

“Am I sure about having to live with you and your little rugrat on a twenty-four-hour basis?” Chris snorted. “Hell, no.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” Jensen said, picking his duffle up and heaving it over his shoulder. Wordlessly, Chris lifted the bag off of Jensen and carried it around the car to the trunk. It wasn’t exactly a long walk, just a few steps, but ever since they knew he was pregnant, Jensen wasn’t allowed to do anything on his own.

“I’m not disabled, Chris.” Jensen sent his friend an exasperated look. “You gonna lift my dick for me, too, when I take a piss?”

Chris was about to reply when Jared joined them outside. His tattooed muscles were gleaming in the autumn sun and he had his hands buried in his jeans pockets, shaking a loose strand of hair from his eyes.

“Don’t let him guilt-trip you with this shit,” Jared said to Chris and then turned around to face Jensen. “No heavy lifting or competitive sports for you.” He looked at Jensen with a dead-serious expression on his face. “Don’t work too much. And cut your clinic hours in half. All that stress isn’t good for—”

“The baby, yeah, I know,” Jensen said with a roll of his eyes. “You done?”

“Almost.” Jared stepped up to Jensen and gently cupped his cheek before leaning in to kiss him. It was a chaste kiss, much too chaste. And it was kind of bittersweet since they didn’t know what lay ahead of them. “Jensen, take care of yourself.”

Jensen looked up into Jared’s captivating eyes and sent a silent prayer to anyone who was listening that this wouldn’t be the last time they got to see each other.

“I will,” Jensen whispered. “You too.”

Jared’s hand moved from Jensen’s cheek to his neck. “If anything happens—”

“I’ll call,” Jensen promised.

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Chris cleared his throat. “Would you stop looking at each other like it’s the last fucking time?” Shaking his head, he strolled past them and headed back inside, giving them some much-needed privacy.

Jared buried his hand in Jensen’s hair, as soon as Chris was gone. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” Jensen nodded. Jared’s deep voice resonated through him. “Soon,” he echoed weakly, every fiber of him protesting at the thought of leaving Jared.

“Promise not to run off with that fellow med student that’s carrying a massive torch for you?”

Jensen let out a watery laugh. “Only if you promise not to kiss random girls.”

Jared’s lip twitched. “You know there’s only one girl I kiss.”

He leaned down to capture his lips and Jensen’s eyes fluttered closed. Jared’s lips were chapped and his hands were rough but all Jensen could focus on was the warmth that spread through his body. He was going to miss this, miss _Jared_ so fucking much. The way he smelled, of leather and motor oil and summer rain. The sound of his voice, rough like sandpaper and deep like the rumble of thunder. The way he tasted like whiskey and hickory wood and something else, much more subtle that was entirely Jared.

They both poured as much feeling into the kiss as possible, tried to convey all the things they could never say with words. Eventually, it was Jared who pulled away, resting his forehead against Jensen’s. He sniffed and then took a step back, the moment effectively broken.

“So, Katie will join you guys in a few days?”

“That’s what she said,” Jensen answered with a shrug, slamming the trunk of their Camero shut. “It’s up to her, though. I’ve got enough backup with Chris and Danneel.”

“Danneel’s coming?” Jared gave him a surprised look.

Jensen shrugged innocently. “I might have asked her to take a few days off from school.”

To be fair, Jensen would have probably never even thought about asking her if she hadn’t offered her help in the first place. It just so happened that Chris was going to be there as well. Jensen absolutely had no ulterior motive here. He wouldn’t dream of it.

“Right.” Jared snorted. “What a coincidence.”

“You guys nearly done with your love fest?” Chris poked his head out from the doorway.

“Yeah, we’re done,” Jared said and Chris took that as an invitation to jog down the stairs.

Bumping Jared’s shoulder, Chris fished a crinkled pack of smokes from his ripped jeans. “You’re not afraid that Jenny’s gonna run off with me, are ya?” he mocked, lighting one and exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air.

“I’m not all that worried,” Jared said and pulled the cigarette out from between Chris’ lips. He dropped it to the ground and stomped it out with his untied Doc Martens before shooting Chris a glare. “If you’re hackin’ packs around him, I’ll personally kick your ass.”

“Alright, papa bear.” Chris clapped Jared on the shoulder before he rounded the car and slid behind the steering wheel.

Jensen stared at Jared for another beat or two, before he forced himself to follow Chris into the car. He never took his eyes off of Jared as he settled into the passenger seat and rolled down the window.

“Call me when you’re there,” Jared leaned in through the metal frame. “Lock the doors at night and park the car a few blocks away. Don’t let Kel out of your sight.”

“I’ll keep an eagle eye on them both,” Chris promised.

“You better.” Jared was only half-joking.

Chris started the engine and the Camero purred to life beneath them.

Jensen’s heart kicked up in dismay. This was it. Their last moment together.

“Be careful,” Jensen pleaded. He lifted himself out of his seat for one final kiss through the opened car window. “Jared, be careful,” he whispered against Jared’s lips. “ _Please._ ”

Chris started driving and Jared stumbled along with the car for a second or two, before his steps faltered and their lips ripped apart.

“Go,” Jared husked out.

The word still rang in Jensen’s mind, even when Jared’s silhouette grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror until he vanished completely from sight.

 

 

They picked Kelly up from Tom and Mike’s place and told him that it was only for a few days, that Jared would follow them as soon as possible. Which, technically wasn’t a lie.

Tom offered them breakfast, but Jensen declined, feeling light-headed and queasy in the aftermath of their departure. How could it be that Jensen felt Jared’s absence like a physical ache? Like someone had cut open his chest and removed an organ? It hadn’t even been thirty minutes and he already wanted to call it quits and hightail it back to Jared.

“Can I show uncle Chris my room, papa? And my crayons?” Kelly asked, tugging on Jensen’s jeans with excitement in his eyes. He had been thrilled to hear that they were going back home. And when it came down to it, that was reason enough for them to leave. It was a reconfirmation of everything that had led up to this decision. South Boston wasn’t a safe environment for their child to grow up in, especially not with everything that had happened between the gangs. Kelly deserved to live a happy life, a life without trauma and violence. “Can we sleep in the treehouse, papa?”

Jensen’s gut twisted. Jared had built that tree house with his own hands. He had gathered and cut the wooden planks, had climbed the old oak tree in their backyard and hammered the boards together until his palms were scraped raw and blistered. And when Kelly had seen it in all its finished glory, his eyes had been wide with awe and hero worship. He had spent days up there, he was so freaking happy.

On a particularly hot night in summer, Jared had dragged out their sleeping bags and set up a little camp in the tree house. The aroma of cut grass had filled the air and the starry night above them was dipped in a thousand bright specks. Jensen had pointed at the constellations and told Kelly stories about them until the toddler fell asleep against Jared’s chest. Jensen and Jared had spent the rest of the night whispering and exchanging soft kisses under the silver moonlight that bathed them, illuminating their wooden sanctuary. The only sound was the soft rustle of leaves, silhouetted against the deep velvety sky. The only thing that mattered was Jared’s hand on his cheek, his lips warm against Jensen’s own and Kelly, sheltered between them, safe and happy.

Jensen was sure he would remember that night for the rest of his life, it had been so perfect.

Swallowing thickly around the growing lump in his throat, Jensen threaded his hand through Kelly’s brown curls. “It’s too cold to sleep outside now. But we’ll show uncle Chris, anyway, okay? Now be a good boy and say goodbye to uncle Tom and uncle Mike.”

“‘Kay, papa,” The toddler ran off, calling out Mike’s name as he vanished out of sight.

Jensen watched him leave, the knot in his stomach tightening. Sure, Kelly was happy for now. But what was Jensen going to tell him if Jared didn’t come back home after a few days, after a week or two? What if he never came back?

Jensen closed his eyes and shoved the thought into a far corner of his mind. When he opened them again, Tom had joined them in the foyer. One glance at him was enough to know that he’d had a rough night, probably spending the majority of it arguing with Mike. He had dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale, eyes bloodshot and swollen in a way that could only mean he’d been crying. He was clad in a gray sweater and jeans, which by Tom’s standards was the equivalent of leaving the house in pajamas. But he still looked good, in a way. Relieved. Which meant he and Mike had probably found common ground.

“You guys all set to go?” Tom asked softly, giving Jensen a compassionate look.

Before Jensen could answer, Mike walked through the doorway, his fingers interlaced with Kelly’s little ones. “You really liked our pool, huh, kiddo?”

“It’s so cool!” Kelly nodded enthusiastically. “I wish we could live here with you and daddy and papa. Then I would swim in it aaall day long!”

Jensen’s eyes grew soft as he watched their son. “So that’s how quickly you’d swap the treehouse for a pool, huh?” he teased.

“But we can have a treehouse _and_ a pool, Papa,” Kelly reasoned.

Jensen picked Kelly up with a soft smile. “Maybe one day,” he said, cupping the back of his son’s head and pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

Tom and Mike stood side by side, both looking tired, but a lot less tense than they had the night before. Tom’s fingers brushed Mike’s tentatively before Mike weaved their hands together. Jensen smiled at them.

“Thank you both, for everything,” he said and then turned towards Mike for a half-sided hug, his free hand wrapping around Mike’s shoulder to pull him into an embrace with Kelly sandwiched between them.

Mike clapped him on the back, sure and strong, before retreating. “Listen, before you go... you should know that Tom and I decided to check out a couple of clinics.”

“Clinics?” Jensen asked with a confused frown.

“You know, for… fertility,” Tom supplied with a shy duck of his head.

Jensen blinked. “Oh.”

“Actually one of them is not too far from New Haven,” Tom elaborated.

“That’s,” Jensen cleared his voice. “That’s great. Really, really great. I’m happy for you guys. You can stay at our place if you want. There’s lots of room now that Jay isn’t…” Jensen swallowed, searching for words. “Now that it’s just us.”

Tom pulled Jensen in for a hug. “You’re gonna be alright, Jen,” he whispered against the shell of his ear and squeezed him tight enough to make it hurt. “Eventually.”

Jensen closed his eyes and squeezed back even harder.

He was too choked up to say anything in return.

And really, what was there to say?

 

 

   
Coming back to the apartment felt a little like returning home after a long vacation.

The first thing Jensen noticed was the smell of acrylic paint and turpentine, then came the more subtle scent of leather and hardwood. The second thing was the disarray of pencils and clothes and toys covering every free surface.

Kelly, still restless from the long drive, barged past Jensen and towards his room, dragging Chris along to show him his toys.

“Home, sweet home,” Jensen mumbled and dropped his duffle on the ground. They had only been gone for five days and yet it felt like they’d been away for far longer than that.

Jensen walked around their open kitchen space, smoothing his palm over the counter and smiling at Kelly’s dog-eared stick-figure drawings that were plastered all over their fridge with magnets. There were a few photos in between, one of Jared stretched out across the seat of his Harley with baby Kelly snuggled against his tattooed neck. Jensen ran his fingers over the picture as though he could reach out to embrace them.

“Stop moping.”

Jensen jumped, his hand instantly moving to cover up the photo, but it was too late. Chris leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him. “He’ll be fine, Jensen. Jay knows how to take care of himself.”

Jensen knew that. Rationally, he knew that Jared could damn well take care of himself. He was excellent in close combat and a better shot than all of them combined. Jared could fracture someone’s collarbone or nose without even looking. He was a force to be reckoned with. Someone to fear and respect.

And yet, Jensen couldn’t help but feel like something bad was going to happen. Maybe it was connected to his dreams. Or maybe Jensen had gotten paranoid after coming so close to losing Jared during their encounter with the Reapers in that warehouse. But all he could see when he closed his eyes were Jared’s lifeless ones staring back at him.

“I’m worried,” Jensen admitted.

“I know.” Chris sighed. “But from what I take, that baby needs you to be ‘Zen’ or it’s not gonna make it. So you’re gonna stop wallowing in heartbreak and sit your ass down while I order us some pizza, got it?”

Jensen’s stomach turned at the thought of food, but Kelly hadn’t eaten anything yet and Jensen didn’t feel like cooking.

“Yeah.” Jensen nodded. “I got it.”

“Yo, Kel!” Chris yelled, facing the stairs that led up to Kelly’s room. He pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket. “We’re ordering pizza, buddy. Got any special wishes?”

“Pizza?” Kelly bolted out of his room and down the stairs at the mention of his favorite dish. He nearly tripped in his haste to get to them, eyes wide and sparkling as he clapped his pudgy hands together. “Really?”

Jensen smiled and lifted his son onto the kitchen counter. “Just this once, okay?” he said and booped Kelly’s button nose. The four-year-old chuckled, legs dangling off the edge.

Jensen used to live on junk food back in his college years. He and Tom ordered in all the fucking time. Back then, Jensen hadn’t been able to make scrambled eggs without burning them halfway through. But he was a father now. And despite his half-time job in Yale and being a med intern at the clinic, Jensen tried to find time for at least one proper meal per day. His son was growing like a weed and he needed to be eating healthy.

“So you want broccoli on yours, then?” Chris teased the toddler, pretending to be serious.

Kelly’s face wrinkled in disgust. “Nooo!!!” he protested at the top of his voice. “No broccoli, papa! I want tomatoes and cheese. Tell uncle Chris I want no veg-gatables on mine!”

“You _do_ know that tomatoes are vegetables, right?” Chris asked.

“They’re fruit, actually,” Jensen corrected, earning himself a glare for his effort. He rolled his eyes. “Just order him a damn Margarita, Chris.”

“One Margarita, coming up. What do you want, Jenny?” Chris asked with an amused smile, holding the phone pressed to his ear.

“Nothing for me.”

Chris gave Jensen a hard stare that didn’t leave room for discussion. “Order or I’ll pick something for you. This whole ‘I’m not hungry’ shit’s gotta go.”

“Fine,” Jensen sighed. “I’ll take whatever they have with mushrooms.”

Jensen smoothed a palm down his stomach, knowing it wasn’t his own craving but the baby’s. It was funny how ‘real’ that made things, driving home the fact that Jensen was no longer just eating for himself.

“Jensen?” A female voice suddenly asked from the doorway. From where Jensen stood in the kitchen, he could spot the auburn ponytail that poked through the front door. “I saw your car parked out back and I thought—”

“Aunt Sophia!” Kelly squealed as Sophia stepped through the doorway. She glanced from Kelly to Jensen to Chris and then back to Kelly before she crossed the room.

“Hey, Kelly-bug,” she beamed and hugged the toddler, gathering him up into her arms and burying her fingers in Kelly’s dark curls. She peppered his head with kisses. “I missed you.”

“Sophia.” Jensen gestured towards Chris. “This is Chris. Chris, meet Sophia.She babysits Kelly whenever Jay and I need a night to ourselves.”

“Gross,” Chris grimaced at the thought of what ‘a night alone’ between Jensen and Jared meant and then he seemed to realize how bad his own words came off to Sophia, who gave him a shocked look. “Not you! I just meant the two of them together.”

Sophia’s glare intensified. “What’s gross about the two of them together?”

“Well, shit,” Chris sighed, running his hand over his mouth. “That’s not what I— Look, I’m the last person on earth you need to wave your rainbow flag to, okay?”

Sophia’s eyes caught fire. She straightened up to her full size, which wasn’t all that impressive compared to Chris’ large frame. “Now listen up, mister—” Sophia growled, poking a finger at his chest.

Jensen sighed and stepped between the two, deciding enough was enough. “He’s not a homophobe, Sophia. Pretty far from it, actually. Just try to get along, please?”

Chris put his phone back in his jacket and wiped his hand on his jeans before offering it to Sophia in greeting. His expression smoothed out from mildly aggravated to charming in a second flat. “Alright, I’m a little off my game there, why don’t we start over. I’m Chris, biggest supporter of Jensen and Jared’s big ole’ gay love.”

Sophia cupped the back of Kelly’s head where she was still holding him but Jensen didn’t miss the way her eyes skirted appreciatively over Chris’ body for all but a second. She shook Chris’ hand with a tight smile. “Sophia.”

There was a second of silence and judging from the way these two looked at each other, it was more than just annoyance that caused the awkward tension. Chris’ smile widened when Sophia didn’t let go of his hands, seemingly lost in some sort of trance. He cleared his throat.  
“I’m gonna need that hand back someday.”

“Oh.” Sophia retrieved her hand like she’d been struck by lightning. “Sorry.”

Jensen wasn’t sure what was going on here or whether he liked it. Chris and Sophia? This wasn’t how he had planned for things to go.

“We are ordering pizza,” Jensen said, causing both, Sophia and Chris to look at him in surprise. “Jay’s still in Boston.” Wow. There were about one million ways to be smooth about this. He cleared his throat, tried again. “Jay’s back in Boston and we’re ordering pizza. Do you want any?”

Sophia looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“Can we watch Frozen?” Kelly suddenly interrupted and Jensen wanted to kiss his son for shifting the attention away from him. He wasn’t sure how he would have reacted if Sophia had asked him why Jared had stayed back or when he was going to return.

Chris looked at Sophia. “We already ordered, but you can have some of mine if you’re hungry.”

He picked Kelly up. “So Disney and pizza, huh, little man? How’s that for a first night back home?” Tickling Kelly’s waist, Chris carried the toddler over to the couch, leaving Sophia and Jensen behind.

Sophia crossed her arms in front of her chest. “So first you vanish to god-knows-where, then you suddenly come back with this cowboy, here... You and Chris didn’t happen to fall madly in love and decide to kill Jay because he was in the way of your romance, did you?”

Jensen stared at Sophia in shock for a second or two before she burst out in laughter, poking him in the side with her elbow. “It’s called a JOKE, Jensen, loosen up. And the guy’s smoking. I should be mad at you for not introducing us earlier.”

Jensen leaned back against the counter. “Yeah, uh, I was kinda busy.”

“No shit,” Sophia huffed. “You have some explaining to do, mister. But first,” Sophia grabbed a couple of beers from their fridge and held one out to Jensen. “We’ve got pizza to eat and a Disney movie to watch.”

Jensen curled his fingers around the beer, barely suppressing a sigh.

“Yeah, about that,” he said.

Sophia turned back around to raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

Jensen’s gaze dropped. “I’m kinda... pregnant.”

If the fallout with Jared had taught him anything, it was that keeping secrets usually blew up in your face, epically. Jensen was done pretending. If he wanted to return some sense of normalcy, he needed to be honest with himself and everyone around him.

“Seven weeks,” he elaborated, meeting Sophia’s shocked stare. “It’s Jared’s and no, I’m not running off with Chris.”

Sophia stared at him for the longest moment, effectively shocked into silence before she smiled and set her beers down on the kitchen counter.

“Wow,” she breathed out. “That’s… wow.”

 

  
Dr. Angelica Wynters was a long-time friend of Jensen. He had first met her during ‘open day’ at St. Andrews, right after his move to Harvard and she had been kind and willing to answer all his medicine-related questions from the start. Throughout the years, she had become his mentor and good friend, a person to turn to for help.

“I don’t have to point out the risks of a uterine septum to you, do I?” Angelica asked.

She had made an ultrasound and Jensen had had tears in his eyes when the sound of a tiny, mutch-too-fast heartbeat had filled the room. The baby was alive and doing relatively well. But the risks were still the same. Surgery was still the best option.

“The rate of miscarriage with septate uteri runs anywhere from 25 to 47 percent. That’s almost twice as high as the rate of miscarriage in the general population.”

“I know,” Jensen admitted tiredly. He had spent whole nights reading, studying the risks, causes, symptoms and the treatment of his condition.

“The septum doesn’t have enough blood supply and the nutritional source is largely cut off right now. With the way the egg is implanted right now, your child has very little chances of developing normally. We’re talking second- or even third-trimester miscarriage, Jensen.”

Jensen gave a tight nod. He didn’t trust his voice to speak without breaking.

“You know what that means?” Angelica asked.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Hysteroscopy.”

It was an invasive technique that involved the insertion of a medical device through the cervix. There were risks that came with the procedure. Serious risks.

“I’ll check with Dr. Clark. He’s one of the best when it comes to Hysteroscopic metroplasty,” Angelica explained. “In the meanwhile, I want you to lay low, Jensen. You’ll have to take it easy, okay? Sleep a lot, drink a lot, eat healthily. Don’t get yourself worked up over anything.”

Jensen nodded again. He thought about the gang war and about how things were far from being over. Realistically, there was no way for him to avoid emotional stress, no matter how hard he tried. If anything was to happen to Jared or Kelly or any of their friends back in Boston, there would be no way for Jensen to keep his calm.

“I’ll try,” Jensen said softly, meeting the doctor’s gaze. “Whatever’s necessary.”

 

 

  
Jensen’s first day back in Yale went about as well as could be expected.

He was back to tight suits and kempt hair, feeling oddly uncomfortable in his own skin as he made his reluctant way to Fuller’s office. He knocked on the door, deciding that since they were on ‘first-name-basis’ and all, he was going to let the Dean of the faculty know that he was back in town. And that he was pregnant. And that he would have to reduce his hours significantly because of the baby’s health.

At least, that had been his plan until Fuller saw Jensen standing in the doorway of his office with that same smug smile on his lips that sent shivers down Jensen’s spine every time he saw it. At that moment Jensen knew with an unshakable sense of unease, that he wouldn’t be leaving Fuller’s office as quickly as he’d hoped.

“Jensen,” the Dean of the faculty welcomed him. “Come in, come in. Don’t be shy. It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.” Jensen forced a polite smile, breath picking up slightly when Fuller pulled the door shut behind them, closing them off from the outside world.

There had always been something inappropriate in Fuller’s gaze, in his tone of voice, in the way he touched Jensen, no matter how fleeting the contact. Jensen wasn’t oblivious. There had to be more to Fuller’s ‘fake friendliness’ than just good intention. It used to bother him less in the past, but now, with Jared so far away and a second kid on the way, Jensen felt exposed and uncomfortable in Fuller’s presence. His skin was crawling under Fuller’s stare.

“There was an important family matter I had to tend to,” Jensen explained, taking a seat in one of the tufted leather chairs across from Fuller’s oak wood desk. “But you don’t need to worry about the exhibit. My project is almost finished. I’m just adding a few final touches.”

“That’s good news,” Fuller smiled at him and sipped on his coffee before setting the mug aside. He folded his hands. “I suppose you’ve received my voicemail.”

“I did.”

“And is there anything you would like to share with the class?” Fuller asked and then chuckled, obviously satisfied with his little pun. “I mean, figuratively, not literally.”

“I get it,” Jensen gave a tight smile and then rubbed his eyes with his hand. He couldn’t tell Fuller about the pregnancy. He couldn’t do it. Not yet. The guy had raised heaven and hell to make this exhibit happen. If Jensen told him now, the whole thing would be born under a bad sign. Fuller would chew him out. He’d be pissed.

Besides, it probably made sense to wait until after the surgery, just in case…

Jensen gulped, hating himself for the thought. He just wanted to get out of this damn office.

“It was a _private_ family issue, sir. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to return to my—”

“Stay.” Fuller’s hand shot out to wrap around Jensen’s wrist across the table.

Jensen winced in pain as Fuller held him fast.

“You’re probably not aware of this,” Fuller’s voice was a low growl. The older man was leaning his body across the table top, sidling up much too close for Jensen’s comfort. Funny, how even with a massive desk between their bodies, Jensen felt as if Fuller was - literally- breathing down his neck. “Yale doesn’t usually hire people without a finished Ph.D. program and a background in education. But I saw something in you, Jensen. From the first moment you walked through that door for your interview, I recognized your potential.”

Fuller moved his free hand to cup the side of Jensen’s face. It was an intimate gesture and Jensen’s jaw locked in discomfort. It took every ounce inside of him not to yank himself out of the touch, but he told himself to hold still.

“Without me, you wouldn't have this job. Without me, this exhibit would have never been funded. I don’t think I can be any plainer than this, but you owe me.”

His heart was beating unnaturally fast, the panic in his chest rising. He hated the feel of Fuller’s hand on his skin, hated the way Fuller’s thumb grazed his cheek and when it moved further down to skim his lip, Jensen’s patience snapped.

“You mind not sticking your finger down my throat, _Kurt?_ ”

Within a second, Fuller’s fake smile morphed into a thin, disapproving line.

He dropped his hand from Jensen’s face and let go of his wrist. With a huff of annoyance, he got up from his chair, rounding the table. “I’ve put a lot of trust into your abilities. The least you could do is repay me with respect. If there’s a family issue serious enough to keep you from work for a whole week, I expect you to tell me about it.”

Fuller came to a halt in front of Jensen, leaning back against the edge of his desk. His eyes were dark and his pose was threatening but Jensen kept his shoulders up high, facing the dean of the faculty without a glimmer of fear in his eyes. He remembered who he was, what Jared had taught him and drew strength from that.

“And I expect the Dean of a Yale faculty not to harass me in his office.” Jensen returned calmly. His lips were tingling. He still felt Fuller’s thumb there, callous and sweaty and it made him sick to his stomach.

Fuller’s eyes went dark and Jensen held his glare, daring him to say something. He had dealt with unwanted attention before, this wasn’t why he was throwing a fit. But Fuller had made him increasingly uncomfortable in his own working environment. He needed to know that Jensen wasn’t going to let this shit slide.

“Be smart about this.” Fuller’s expression closed off completely, his lips thinning into a disapproving line. “This doesn’t have to be a problem unless you make it one.”

“I _am_ smart,” Jensen said. He got up from the chair, shoulders squared. “And this was a problem from the start.”

Jensen had one of the most ambitious, most talented lawyers out there on his side. If Fuller ever got reported for sexual harassment, Mike would see to it that he’d never find work again. Not even a fucking Mac Donald’s would hire him after Mike was through with him.

“Jensen.” Fuller’s voice called him back, low and threatening. "You'll regret this."

The words echoed through the room dauntingly. Jensen didn’t turn around from where he was standing by the door. He just wrapped his fingers around the doorknob.

“I already do,” Jensen said, pushing through the door and letting it slam in his wake.

 

 

Chris was playing Chutes and Leathers with Kelly when it happened.

The doorbell rang, interrupting their game. Chris got up from their spot at the coffee table and carefully walked over, looking through the spyhole. One hand reached back to the gun he had stuck in the waistband of his jeans until he saw who was standing on the doormat.

“Jen, open up, this shit’s heavy,” she demanded, voice muffled through the closed door. She was carrying a paper bag full of groceries, a celery root and a bunch of carrots sticking out from the top. Her auburn locks fell over her shoulders in a loose tangle, her brown eyes deep and rich in color.

Chris turned away from the door viewer and squeezed his eyes shut. He pressed a fist against the door, jaw locked tight enough to snap before he wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and opened up.

“Hey, sorry I’m—” Danneel’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open when she noticed it wasn’t Jensen she was talking to. Her face paled and the bag of groceries fell to the ground with a heavy thud, an apple falling out and rolling across the porch.

They stared at each other for a second before Chris bowed down to pick up the fallen items and putting them back into the bag. He straightened and held the paper bag out, only to notice that she was gone. She had turned her back on him and jogged down the stairs, trying to get back to her car.

“Danni, wait!”

Chris dumped the bag on the porch and ran after her. She was fast, but Chris managed to snatch her wrist before she could slip behind the steering wheel of her rusty pickup.

She whirled around, eyes dark and furious behind a veil of tears. “Let go!”

“Look, I had no clue you were coming—”

Danneel snorted in disbelief. “Sure you didn’t. God, you’re such a lying bastard.”

“I’m just as fucking surprised as you are, alright?” Chris exclaimed. “Would you get out of the damn car and give me a chance to explain?”

Danneel’s eyes were ablaze with more malice than Chris had ever thought possible. “Take your hand off me, _now_.”

Chris realized that there would be no chance to talk to her and let out a sigh before loosening his grasp on her wrist.

She ripped her hand out of his hold and slammed the door of her pickup shut with far more force than necessary.

“Danni, wait—” Chris pleaded, but his voice was drowned out by the rumble of the engine and the squeaking of tires as she pulled out of the driveway.

He stared after her, feeling like someone had stabbed a blunt chunk of metal in his chest.

It had hurt to lose her once.

But losing her twice was _worse_.

 

 

  
As if his day hadn’t already been bad enough, Jensen came home to find Chris looking at him like Jensen murdered puppies for fun.

“What’s up with you?” Jensen said, shrugging out of his coat and dumping his leather bag beside the couch, where Chris and Kelly had apparently played Chutes and Ladders just a moment ago. The game was unfinished and Chris’ gaze was fixed somewhere above Jensen’s shoulder like he could barely stand to look at Jensen or something. Like Jensen had crossed some invisible line and offended Chris’ sensibilities.

Jensen waved a hand in front of his friend’s face. “You okay? Why are you looking at me like I stole your candy?”

“You still have to ask?” Chris growled out, slapping Jensen’s hand out of his face. He turned to the side and sent a glance at Kelly over the shoulder. “Go to your room, kid.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow at the commanding tone in Chris’ voice. He wasn’t overly sensitive when it came to how he raised his son, but he didn’t appreciate anyone other than himself or Jared ordering his four-year-old around like some lap dog. Not even Chris.

Kelly blinked up at them with wide, scared eyes. He could obviously sense that something was in the air. Their son had always been perceptive like that.

“Hey, buddy, c’mere for a second?” Jensen softened his voice and crouched down as Kelly clambered off the leather couch and ambled over to Jensen’s side. Jensen lightly grasped his son’s chin, looking into his beautiful orbs. “Did you have a good day with uncle Chris?”

Kelly nodded, but he still looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Be a good boy and wait in your room for me, huh?” Jensen ran a hand through Kelly’s brown curls and gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “If you go on ahead and put on your pajamas, I’ll read you a bedtime story later, deal?”

“‘Kay.” Kelly nodded again and darted out of the living room.

“Care to tell me what this is all about?” Jensen asked with an accusatory glare. “I’m gone for one day and my son looks like he saw a damn ghost, Chris. What the fuck happened?”

“Guess who stumbled through the door half an hour ago,” Chris hissed, stabbing a finger into Jensen’s chest. He was bristling with anger and realization slowly dawned on Jensen. “You invited her along without telling me! Guess how fucking happy she was to find me in your damn apartment, you fucker!”

“Christ, listen—”

“No, you fucking listen to me!” Chris snapped. “I left her for a fucking reason, okay? I left because every time I look at you and Jay, I think about what you have to deal with on a daily basis and how much it fucks you up in the head. I can’t drag her into this, man. I won’t.”

Chris was right. Jensen was twenty-six years old and he had been roofied, kidnapped, tortured, shot and he still sometimes woke to the sensation of a stranger’s hands on him or to the excruciating pain of a bullet piercing his spleen. He’d lived through terrible, impossible, no-good situations and he’d spend the rest of his life scarred because of it. But he would do it all again if that was the prize he had to pay to spend the rest of his life by Jared’s side.

“She walked in here and she thought I set her up, Jensen,” Chris let out and suddenly the anger drained from his features, shoulder slumping in defeat. His expression changed, a flood of emotions reflected in his eyes. There was hurt and guilt and sorrow in the bottom of those grey pools and Jensen felt about two inches tall for putting these emotions there. “What were you thinking? That she was gonna see me and beg me to take her back? Fuck.”

Jensen’s throat closed up, his nerves already frayed and his emotions running high after the confrontation with Fuller and a whole morning of lectures.

It was funny how he managed to piss off the people he loved most without even trying.

Jensen sent his friend an imploring look. “She asked me to come along and I just thought you two might... I didn’t think it through, okay? _I’m sorry,_ Chris.”

Chris snorted, shaking his head. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed his leather jacket from the back of the couch. “I’ll take the Harley for a ride.”

Jensen reached out to hold Chris back, his eyes pleading. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, knowing that there was nothing he could say to

Jensen watched Chris leave with a strange sense of deja-vu. It wasn’t until his phone started ringing in his jeans. Still half lost in thought, Jensen picked it up. “Yeah?”

 _“Did you know?”_ Danneel asked in a shaky voice. She was crying and Jensen closed his eyes, hating himself for being the reason she was in so much pain. _“Did you fucking know that he was going to be there when you invited me?”_

“Danni, listen. It’s not—”

_“You knew and you let me walk straight into him.”_

“He loves you,” Jensen sighed, pinching the top of his nose. “You guys need to talk.”

 _“Screw you, Jensen,”_   Danneel choked out and then hung up the phone, the empty echo of the dial-tone drifting hauntingly around Jensen as he slowly lowered his cell.

 

 

 

Kelly was nuzzling Jensen’s neck, his favorite plush dinosaur, Eddie, tucked away beneath his arm as he stared at the colorful page of the children’s book Jensen was reading to him. They were in Kelly’s room, the soft shine of the night lamp just bright enough to illuminate the book in the darkness. Jensen had opened the window to let some fresh air in and they had both curled up beneath a thick, fluffy blanket to keep themselves warm and comfortable.

 _“How much good is inside a day?”_ Jensen read out loud to the sleepy toddler. _“Depends how good you live ’em. How much love inside a friend? Depends on how much you give ‘em.”_

He closed the book with a heavy exhale, trying not to see parallels in his own life and a goddamn children’s book.

“G’night baby.” Jensen turned to press a kiss on Kelly’s forehead.

“Papa?” Kelly asked with a yawn, eyes at half-mast as he peeked up at his father from behind unkempt bangs. “Don’t you like daddy anymore?”

Jensen’s heart sank and he froze. “What?” he said, focusing his full attention on his four-year-old. “Why would you ask that?”

Kelly rubbed his eyes in a clear sign that he was exhausted from the day's events. “Niclas from preschool says that sometimes daddies and mommies stop liking each other and they live in different houses.”

“Baby, that’s not…” Jensen washed a hand over his tired face. “You know how your daddy is really good at fixing motorcycles?” he asked and Kelly nodded sleepily, hugging his dinosaur closer to his chest.

“He’s the bestest mechanic in the whole wide world,” the toddler babbled enthusiastically.

“That he is.” Jensen felt a fond smile tug on his lips. “And that’s why uncle Steve and uncle Chad need him to help them out in the garage for a bit longer.”

“Because they aren’t as good as daddy?”

“That’s right,” Jensen agreed, glad to see that Kelly was buying it. He carded a hand through his son's thick brown curls. “We can call him, though. Or how about we make a card and send it to him? What do you think?”

“I’ll draw daddy a picture,” Kelly suggested with a smile.

“That’s a great idea, pumpkin. I’m sure that will make him happy.”

Jensen heard the lock of their door downstairs twisting. Jensen was expecting Chris. But when the door creaked open and the heavy sound of booted footsteps failed to appear, Jensen’s worry skyrocketed. The locks in their neighborhood weren’t all that complicated to get around, even when they were secured. All you really needed to open them, was a pair of pliers to break open the security chain and a crowbar.

“Go to sleep now,” Jensen whispered, pressing another kiss to Kelly’s head. “I love you.”

“Love you, papa,” Kelly echoed drowsily, his eyes already falling closed.

Jensen stepped out of the nursery, trying to be quiet as he pulled the door closed behind him. Somebody stumbled into the coffee table downstairs and let out a suppressed curse. It wasn’t a voice Jensen recognized.

There was no sound of undressing, no soft clinking of keys, no switching on the lights.

Just silence.

Whoever had just walked inside the house was waiting for Jensen to make noise, for him to give his location away. The footsteps were coming closer, walking towards the end of the staircase and Jensen’s heart kicked up in his chest.

He rushed into the bedroom and pulled Jared’s gun from the sock drawer before heading back into the hallway. He checked the magazine and then- finding comfort in the fact that the clip was fully loaded- pulled his phone from his pockets with shaking fingers.

 _‘Someone’s in the house. Where r u?’_ **(Message** from: **You. Sent** at: **8:11 PM)**

 _‘Chris, wherever_ u r _, come quick.’_ **(Message** from: **You. Sent at: 8:11 PM)**

A second later Jensen heard movement below. He skulked down the stairs, safely hidden from sight. He pressed his back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm his racing pulse and figure out what to do.

Luckily, he didn’t have to make a decision.

“You can come out from your hiding spot. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Jensen’s eyes flashed open.

“Jack,” he breathed, unable to believe his own ears. His clammy hands tightened around the hilt of the gun as he slowly made his way down the stairs, revealing himself.

Jack was standing in the center of their living room, waving his heavily-bandaged hand at Jensen in mock greeting. “Long time no see, butcher boy. Nice place you and Jay got yourselves here.” He turned to look around their open living space, eyes skirting over expensive furniture with pursed lips. “Real fancy.”

Jensen had a hard time keeping his hand from shaking as he pointed the muzzle at Jack’s forehead. “What the hell are you doing here? How did you get inside?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Your door is like an open invitation to anyone with a debit card. You didn’t seriously think that lock was gonna keep anyone from barging right in, did you?”

“You followed us.” Jensen drew the only logical conclusion. His voice was shaky. He was sickened by the way Jack just stood there - in the middle of their living room - in the middle of their safe haven like he had any goddamn right. “You were waiting for Chris to leave.”

“Oh please,” Jack huffed out a breath, taking a step closer. “Like the Reapers would waste their time watching your sorry ass all day long. You might not be aware of this, but they actually have better things to do than to worry about Jared and his group of high school dropouts.” Jack shook his head. “No, they thought of a better way to keep track of you. Far more inconspicuous and far more effective.”

Jack made to move closer, but Jensen’s fingers tightened on the gun.

“ _Don’t,_ ” he warned, pulling the safety back. He didn’t dare to breathe. Right now, he was the only thing standing between Jack and his son’s safety. “You followed us. You broke into our house - again. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you here and now.”

“I’ll give you your damn reason.” Jack dug in his pocket before pulling out a tiny electronic surveillance bug. It was flat and round with a thin wire sticking out from a circular chunk of plastic. “These things are all over Chad’s house. We placed them in the kitchen, the garage, the living room. They did it to get some information. Then it became a stepping stone to learn about your daily routines, allowing them to figure out a way to hit you when you least expect it.”

Jensen’s heart sank with dread, his blood draining from his face as the full implication of what that meant dawned on him. Jack had never come to their house because of Kelly. He hadn’t come to get money, either. He had broken into Chad’s place to plant surveillance bugs around the house. All this time, they’d been listening.

 _“I love you,”_ Jack mocked in a high-pitched voice. _“But Kelly, he can’t be here for this. And I don’t think I can, either.”_

“Why are you doing this?” Jensen demanded. “Are they listening to us right now?”

God, this was so fucked.

Jensen needed to tell Jared.

Not waiting for an answer, Jensen fished his phone from his pocket. He pressed speed dial, all the while keeping his aim steady. He never even took his eyes off of Jack, not wanting to give the guy a chance to attack.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked, taking a step forward.

“Shut up,” Jensen bit out, listening to the dial tone. _‘C’mon,_ c’mon _, c’mon. Pick up. Pick up. Pick the fuck—’_

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” Jack interjected.

“I said shut up!” Jensen hissed. His heart was racing as he listened to the hollow ringing on the other end. His imagination was running wild. What if the gang had held a meeting, planning their next move? What if Ty had listened in? Jared could be lying dead somewhere, his phone buzzing incessantly in a puddle of his own blood.

So much for ‘avoiding stress’.

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut against the image and that was all it took for Jack to launch an attack. Jack knocked into him, slamming him to the ground. Jared’s gun went flying through the air, landing out of reach and the next second Jensen was pinned to the ground with a sweaty palm pressed down over his mouth.

Jack loomed over him, hazel eyes - so similar to Jared’s - peering down at him. “You can’t tell him,” Jack hissed. Jensen struggled weakly, trying to push him off, but Jack was stronger, keeping him immobile. “He’ll blow my cover.”

Jensen’s eyes stung, his breathing was hot and heavy against Jack’s hand.

“This is your one-time chance to use me as a double agent,” Jack went on. “I’ll tell you everything I know about them, who they are, where they live. You’ll know their next moves before they even know them. If you tell Jay now? All bets are off.”

Across from them on the floor, Jared’s voice came through the speaker, tinny and sounding increasingly worried. Jensen’s eyes widened as he stared helplessly at the cellphone.

_“Jen? Jensen! What’s going on? Are you alright? Answer me.”_

Jack was still bowed forward, lips close to Jensen’s ear. “Jay will hightail it over here, out of his mind with worry. Ty’s just waiting for a chance to get Jay on his own. You understand?”

 _“Jensen!”_ Jared sounded terrified.

“You understand what I’m saying?” Jack asked again, more insistently this time.

Jensen gave a panicked nod.

Jack lifted his hand from Jensen’s mouth and Jensen sucked in a deep breath, scrambling away from his attacker and towards where his phone was lying on the floor. He fumbled with it before pressing it to his ear, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. “Jay?” his voice was shaky and filled with tears. He thought about the baby, all the stress he’d been subject to throughout the day and the force with which Jack had knocked him to the ground.

 _“Jensen. You scared the hell out of me. What happened?”_ Jared demanded.

“I dropped it,” Jensen lied. He was still close to tears and his hands were clamped so tightly around the phone, the knuckles turned white as he stared over at Jack, holding the older man’s intense gaze. “I dropped the phone.”

_“You sure you’re alright? It sounded like you fell or something.”_

“Jay, listen to me,” Jensen interrupted. “The house is bugged. Check your clothes and the furniture in all the rooms. They’ve heard everything we said. All of it.”

 _“What?”_ Jared exclaimed. _“How do you—”_

“Jack,” Jensen bit out, eyes flashing across the floor to where Jack was watching him with hawk-eyes. “It must have been him. When he broke into the house.” Jensen swallowed thickly. “I found one in Kelly’s toys.”

_“What? But—”_

“For all we know they could be listening to us right now. Check the house, okay? I’ll call you later,” Jensen hung up and curled his fingers around the phone until his knuckles turned white. He straightened up and walked over to where Jared’s gun lay, picking it up.

Then he turned around to face Jack and walked up to him slowly, until they were face to face, their feet nearly touching. He looked up into Jack’s eyes with so much contempt he could taste it on the back of his tongue. “This whole time you listened to us?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Jack gave back cockily and Jensen’s fingers tightened where they were wrapped around the barrel of the gun.

“Then you know that I’m pregnant?” Jensen asked, low under his breath. 

Jack watched him and his expression shifted, a flicker of fear settling in the depth of his eyes as he realized his mistake. “Yo, listen, man—”

Lightning quick, Jensen slammed the hilt of the gun down hard on Jack’s head, sending him to the ground with a pained grunt. Leaning down, Jensen grabbed Jack by the neck and whispered in his ear.

“You will tell me everything you know. Every little, insignificant detail.” Jensen tightened his fingers around the guy’s neck. “And if my kid stops breathing because of this - because of what you just did? I’m gonna inject you full of paralytic so you stay awake while I cut you open. You won’t be able to move and you’ll be forced to watch while I take you apart limb, by fucking limb for the three or four minutes you’re still alive.”

Jack’s face went ghostly white at the visual description. He looked at Jensen with a pain-filled gaze, blood spurting from the laceration on his head and dribbling down his brows.

“You think you should be afraid of Ty?” Jensen asked and let go of Jack’s neck with a rough jostle. “Think again.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you can spare a minute of your time, I'd love to hear your thoughts :D Reviews fuel the fire!! 
> 
> ~big thank you to Kimenem & ficluv82 for their time and patience!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNINGS* for minor character death, graphic descriptions of violence, mutilation, shootings, bad language.

****

********

**Open Highway  
C **hapter 9****

“You got a beer in this place?” Jack asked, propping his mud-caked boots up on the dining table and making all of the glasses bounce.

Jensen shoved his feet off the furniture while skewering Jack with a pointed glare.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Arms to the side.”

“You a cop now?” Jack snorted.

“No.” Jensen said, holding up the Taurus and waving it in Jack’s face. “But I’m on the more favorable side of a loaded gun _,_ so I’d suggest you shut up and do what I tell you.”

With an eye-roll, Jack got up and took the requested stance.

Jensen started patting him down, searching him for weapons.

“I know you’re into dick and all, but would you stop feeling me up? I don‘t swing that way.“

Jensen whirled Jack around and pinned him against the wall. “You might wanna stow the smartass remarks for someone who isn’t about to paint the wall with your grey matter, _Jack_.”

Jensen let go of him, satisfied to see a flicker of fear in the other man’s eyes.

Jack let out a breath and slumped back down into the kitchen chair, when the rattle of the doorknob caused him to turn around.

“Jensen?!” Chris’ yelled from outside, hammering against the front door with enough force to rattle the walls. Jensen had wedged a chair up against the knob for extra protection. Chris turned the knob, trying to push inside the house, but the chair held steady, blocking his entrance. “Jen, open up!”

“Don’t move,” Jensen instructed Jack and walked across the room to pull the chair away.

The door fell open and Chris tumbled in with no more resistance to hold him back.

Chris looked frantic. His hair was a wild mess, eyes yanked wide open as they gave Jensen a cursory glance, checking him for injuries. “Y’alright?” he asked in a shaky voice, hand hovering over Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen was about to answer him when Chris spotted Jack at the dining table.

“Son of a bitch,” Chris growled and lunged forward.

“Chris, wait—” Jensen tried to step in but he wasn’t fast enough.

“You’re fucking dead!” With an expression of fury, Chris yanked Jack out of the kitchen chair and punched him square in the face. Jack’s head snapped back and the chair almost toppled over from the force of the blow.

Jensen cursed under his breath. _God fucking damn it._

“It wasn’t enough that we shish-kebabed your hand, huh?” Chris snarled, grabbing two fistfuls of Jack’s hoodie. “You want another fucking round?”

Jack raised his pain-filled eyes to meet Chris’. “Dude. I don’t even know who you are.”

“I’m your worst fucking nightmare, you fucking—“

“Uncle Chris?”

Jensen and Chris both whirled around to see Kelly standing at the bottom of the staircase, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He had a stuffed dinosaur in his arms and wore his superman pajamas. With the tousled hair and the drowsy look in his startling blue eyes, he looked younger than his years. _Vulnerable._

Jensen’s heart sank with dread.

This was why he had left Boston in the first place. He had tried to shelter his son from what was happening around them, but he was slowly beginning to realize that there was no escape from the war between the Legion and the Reapers. This fight was going down, one way or another. And they were all stuck in the middle of it.

Chris deflated at the sound of Kelly’s voice. Exchanging a brief glance with Jensen, he let go of Jack and walked over to the staircase. “Hey, buddy. Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“Who’s that man?” Kelly asked warily, a finger pointed in Jack’s direction. Jensen didn’t know if he should be relieved that Kelly didn’t remember Jack or if he should be pissed that Jack had dared to break into the house his four-year-old slept in _twice_ in the same fucking week.

“Nobody, kiddo. He’s just a… he just—“

“I’m your _real_ uncle, kid,” Jack piped up from across the room. He made a step toward Kelly, but he didn’t get very far when Jensen stepped into Jack’s path, fingers curled tightly around Jared’s gun.

Chris shoved Kelly behind himself and fixated Jack with a look that would have sent him running into the arms of his mother if she wasn’t dead. “You’re a _stranger_ and if you take one more step toward him, you’ll regret it. Now, back. the fuck. _off._ ”

Jack let out an incredulous huff of air as he glanced over at Jensen. “So you’ll let this asshole take him, but not his actual flesh-and-blood relative?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Chris lunged forward with a threatening growl. He grabbed Jack by the throat and slammed him back down against the kitchen table. A glass fell to the ground, shattering against the tiled floor and Jack was squirming, pinned to the table top by Chris’ heavily tattooed arms.

“Chris, stop!” Jensen jumped in, trying to get between the two men when a soft cry had him turning around. Kelly was watching the scene unfold with wide, fear-filled eyes, clutching his dinosaur to his chest and attempting to hide his face behind the stuffed animal. Jensen shoved between the two men, forcing them apart. “Stop it, damn it. Get off! You’re scaring him.”

Breathing heavily, Chris tumbled back, pointing a finger at Jack. “You dare to fucking talk about ‘flesh and blood’ relations, you lowlife piece of shit? You’re ratting out your own brother and breaking into his home!”

“I said _enough!_ ” Jensen thundered, causing Chris’ mouth to snap shut. Breathing heavily, Jensen fixed Chris with a hard stare, waiting for him to calm down. When Chris gave a tight nod, signaling that he had regained at least _some_ of his composure, Jensen turned back around and walked towards the staircase, focusing his attention on his son.

He gathered a crying Kelly into his arms and sent Chris a look over Kelly’s head. “I’mma get him settled down. Don’t let Jack out of your sight.”

Chris rolled his neck and gave a grim nod, which was all the acknowledgement Jensen needed. He cupped the back of his son’s head and carried him up the stairs, back towards the sanctuary of Kelly’s room.

His heart was still racing in his chest, all he could think about was the wide-eyed, terrified look on Kelly’s face just a moment ago. A four-year-old shouldn’t have to deal with this shit. This was the kind of stuff that nightmares were made of - the kind of stuff that caused lifelong therapy. And his baby deserved better than this. He shouldn’t pay the price for their choices.

“Daddy,” Kelly whined, nuzzling Jensen’s neck, fingers digging into Jensen’s shirt until Jensen’s thoughts drifted back to the here and now. “I want daddy.”

“Shhh… I know,” Jensen soothed, setting Kelly down on his bed and tugging the still-warm blanket up around the toddler’s neck. “We’ll call him tomorrow, okay?”

“No!” Kelly wailed. “I want daddy now!”

“Kel—”

Kelly’s bottom lip started wobbling, his eyes filling rapidly with tears and Jensen’s heart ached at the sight of his son’s pain. He felt his resolve crumbling quickly.

“Alright,” he sighed. “We’ll call him now.”

Assuming that his son’s mood would brighten if he got to hear his father’s voice, Jensen pulled his phone out of his jeans and called Jared’s number.

Jared picked up before the second ring.

 _“Jen?”_ He sounded breathless and Jensen closed his eyes, picturing Jared with bewildered eyes and messy hair after having sought Chad’s entire house for bugs. “ _You guys alright?”_

“Your son wants to talk to you.”

_“What? But—”_

Not allowing Jared to finish, Jensen handed Kelly the phone, his tiny hands barely able to get a hold of the device.

“Daddy?” Kelly’s voice was filled with unshed tears and just like that, all the tension was sucked from Jared’s voice and replaced with worry. His tone grew gentle instantaneously, sensing that something was wrong with the toddler.

_“Hey, kiddo. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”_

Kelly snuffled, hugging his stuffed dinosaur to his chest. “I got scared.”

They probably shouldn't be doing this. They shouldn’t be using their phones at the risk of having their calls listened to. And Jensen sure as hell shouldn’t let his four-year-old babble away like this when he didn’t want Jared to know about Jack. But he had a feeling that Kelly really needed to hear his father’s voice right now, and he couldn’t bear to deny his son such a simple comfort.

 _“Scared of what, champ?”_ Jared gently probed on the other end.

“Uncle Chris was yelling. It was scary.”

In the end, the phone call _didn’t_ help.

If anything it made things worse.

Midway through Kelly trying to talk about Chris being angry and the ‘bad man’ being a ‘meanie’, Kelly burst into tears and told Jared he really missed him and he really wanted for Jared to read him a bedtime story. Jensen could practically feel Jared’s helplessness as he tried and failed to calm the toddler down from the other end of the line.

Kelly was sobbing then, asking when Jared came back. Jensen watched his son‘s pain with equal measures of guilt and empathy. Kelly never cried like this. It was clear how confusing the situation was for him, how _scary_. Jensen forgot sometimes that his little boy was really just that - a little boy who didn‘t understand why his dad was suddenly gone.

After a couple of minutes of Jared trying to calm him down, Kelly’s crying subsided and he became silent as he pressed his face against Jensen’s side. He refused to talk to Jared again and eventually Jensen took the phone from his son’s loose grasp, lifting it to his own ear again. “Hey. It’s me.”

Jared paused for a long moment, just breathing into the speaker.

_“He’s so upset.”_

“He misses you,” Jensen gave back, carding fingers through Kelly’s hair. Already, the boy’s eyes were drooping, muscles going lax against Jensen as he stroked his hair.

Kelly was at an age where he idolized his father above all else. It was only natural that being away from Jared would eventually cause him to act up.

_“I’m sorry, Jen.”_

Jensen’s jaw muscle shifted, lips pressed together to keep himself from begging Jared to come home. He forced himself to take a deep breath. “It’s not your fault.”

 _“Yeah,”_ Jared returned. _“It is.”_

Jensen bit his bottom lip, knowing there was nothing he could say to make Jared feel better.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a long pause. “Did you find _—_ ”

 _“We found the bugs. Motherfuckers must have heard everything we said.”_ Jared fell quiet for a moment and Jensen could hear the cogs in his head turning. He knew where Jared was going with this before Jared said it out loud. _“You realize what that means?”_

“They know about the baby.”

 _“Jensen, this is bad,”_ Jared said. _“I should be hauling back to you right this seco—”_

“You’re exactly where you need to be,” Jensen cut him off in a firm voice. Right now, all that mattered was that Ty and his gang was stopped. “Besides, Chris is here to have our back.”

 _“Yeah, about that.”_ Jared said. _“Who’s the ‘mean guy’ Kelly was talking about?”_

Jensen closed his eyes. “It’s nothing. He had a nightmare.”

_“Jen if something happened—”_

“We‘re alright.“ Jensen aborted Jared’s question, trying to bring the call to an end. He could feel his eyes stinging with tears, heart heavy in his chest at having to lie to Jared again. It wasn’t easy to keep Jack’s reappearance a secret from his boyfriend, but Jensen had a plan and it wasn’t going to work if Jared hightailed it back to New Haven.

“I’ll give you a call tomorrow, okay?” Jensen offered softly.

 _“Yeah,”_ Jared answered and waited a moment before hanging up.

Jensen clung to the phone for a few minutes longer, Kelly wedged up against his side. He brushed the brunette bangs from the sleeping toddler’s face and stroked his cheek with his thumb, tracing the spatter of freckles there.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he whispered.

His free hand moved down to his stomach.

_‘Both of you.’_

 

__

 

They were sitting around the coffee table, Jensen opposite of Jack, and Chris in the armchair next to the leather couch.

The gun was in Jensen’s lap, a silent reminder that Jack was only alive because they wanted him to be.

“Ty cornered me. He asked me to rat Jared out. I told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine, but it’s not like he left me with a damn choice. It was either helping him or eating a bullet.”

“And see, that’s the difference between you and Jay,” Chris bit out through his teeth, leaning forward to point an accusing finger at the guy’s face from across the coffee table. “Jay would have taken that bullet a thousand times over before he ever betrayed his family.”

Jensen watched Jack’s expression grow from mildly annoyed to downright pissed in a second flat, Chris’ words having hit their mark.

“Stop making Jay out to be a good Samaritan,” Jack growled out, eyes flashing with a deep-rooted fury, the kind that had festered over the years and never really went away. “I grew up with him and I know fucking better. Jared Padalecki is one selfish motherfucker. His whole fucking life, all he ever cared about was himself.”

Jensen felt his fingers twitch around the trigger of the gun.

There were many things that could be said about Jared, but being selfish wasn’t one of them. He was the kind of guy who gave money to the homeless, even when he didn’t have much to spare. He’d take a bullet for anyone in the gang and not think twice.

Noticing the shift in Jensen’s expression, Jack met his gaze across the coffee table. “Y’all look at me like I’m dirt under your fingernails, but the truth is that Jay’s just as much of a criminal as I am. Maybe even more so.”

Chris, who had been getting gradually more pissed during Jack’s monologue, looked as though he was two seconds away from yanking Jack’s spine out through his nose.

Jensen tried to breath through his own anger, trying to get to the bottom of this whole thing.  

“Jack,” he started. “What do you want from us?”

Jack looked at Jensen for the longest time without even blinking. His eyes were the color of a stormy ocean at midnight, so similar to Jared’s it hurt to look at them.

“Ty said I should come up with a way to gain your trust.” Jack tilted his head to the side, leaning forward in his seat. “He’s looking for a way to take the Legion out for good. He wants every last one of you dead. And if I say everyone I mean _everyone._ ” Jack’s eyes flickered over to the stairs that lead up to Kelly’s room. “Tots included.”

Jensen listened to the words, spoken so casually, so carelessly, as though they weren’t literally Jensen’s worst nightmare coming true. He felt a deep-rooted bout of disgust well up in his stomach for Jared’s brother, who spoke about murdering a four-year-old boy - his own nephew - without batting an eyelash.

Jensen glanced at Chris. His jaw was locked tight and his eyes were dark, fingers white-knuckling his own gun.

“He wants for Jared to be the last one standing,” Jack continued. “Jared will lose everyone he ever even remotely cared about. And then… when he’s a broken shell of the man he once was,” Jack’s voice grew dark and raspy as he leaned forward in his seat, eyes going dark. “He will be put down like a sick dog. _Executed_.”

The blood drained from Jensen’s face as he shot up from the couch. He felt sickened by the picture Jack’s words conjured up in his head.

_Jared with red-rimmed eyes and a blood-spattered face, his expressive eyes filled with resignation as Ty lifted his gun and leveled it with Jared’s forehead. A deafening shot, Jared’s body jerking back from the force of the impact. Blood spraying the pavement. Knees hitting the ground with a heavy thud._

Jensen’s hands clamped down hard on the back of their leather couch as the world threatened to tilt and spin out of control around him. Black spots were dancing at the edge of his vision and he bile rose in the back of his throat.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Chris’ voice broke through the vertigo and suddenly his friend was there, rubbing a palm against Jensen’s back, steadying him. Jensen blinked his eyes back open, his vision blurred as he withdrew from Chris’ comforting touch. He straightened his shoulders, forcing himself to drag in a lungful of air.

“Why go through the hassle?” Jensen demanded, voice wavering with emotion.  “You were in Chad’s house and you could have easily taken Sandy and the kids. Jay would have been devastated. He would have _never_ recovered from that.”

Jack chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, before letting out a huff of air. “There are new gangs on the uprise in South Boston. They are causing trouble, snatching away pieces of business and gaining too much attention from the cops. It doesn’t sit well with Ty. He figured that since everyone south of Roxbury knows Jared, his death would set a pretty clear _example_ of what was going to happen if anyone tried to cross him.”

“Ty wants to make it an execution,” Jensen spat out, eyes narrowed with disgust. “He wants for all of Boston to witness the demise of the Black Legion, doesn’t he?”

Jack didn’t say anything, but the silence was confirmation enough.

Chris was bristling beside him. “Why are you telling us all this?”

Jack raised his palms in surrender, his tone slow and careful as he held Chris’ livid glare. “I have no intention to murder anyone.” He sent Chris a pointed glare, then glanced over at Jensen. “I’m here because I want to help you take that sicko down.”

“And we’re supposed to believe you?” Chris growled out.

“I told you about the bugs, didn’t I?” Jack reasoned. “Look, I’m risking my fucking neck for you guys. Least you could do is to give me a bit of credit.”

Jensen licked his lips. “Let’s say we believe you. How do you think this is gonna play out?”

Jack shrugged. “We pretend that everything’s going according to plan. I show up every once in a while, you’ll have some mixed feelings about it, but eventually you’ll see that I’m a good guy. And in return, I’ll tell you everything you guys wanna know about the Reapers. What they talk about, what their next moves are, where they have their gang meetings. And while Ty thinks everything goes according to plan, we’ll set up some sort of trap, make him run right into it. He’ll never see it fucking coming.”

Jensen exchanged another look with Chris. seeing the suspicion in his friend’s eyes.

“So?” Jack asked, sounding hopeful.

Jensen was quiet for the longest of moments. He looked back at Jack and set his gun aside, putting the safety back on.

Chris crossed his bulky arms in front of his chest. “Go fuck yoursel—”

“We’re in.”

Chris stopped talking mid-sentence when Jensen interrupted him. His whirled around to stare at Jensen with something that Jensen could only describe as betrayal when he realized what Jensen had just said. _“What?”_

Ignoring Chris, Jensen focused his attention solely on Jack, making sure they had an agreement. He stepped up next to the couch and held out a hand to Jack. “Deal?”

“Have you fucking lost it, Jensen?” Chris raged.

Jack grinned and shook hands with Jensen over the coffee table. “Deal.”

“Fine, do what you fucking want.” Chris sneered and stomped off towards the door that led to their garage. He slammed the door closed, leaving Jensen and Jack alone, doubtlessly lighting up a cancer stick to calm his nerves.

“I think you hurt his feelings,” Jack commented drily. Jensen ignored the provocation and kept shaking Jack’s hand for a moment longer. Then, before Jack knew what was happening, he twisted the other man’s hand behind his back and pushed him with his face against the coffee table, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Remember what I said earlier about how I was going to kill you?”

He twisted Jack’s hand a little more, just enough to cause him pain and he was satisfied to hear the other man’s pain. “Y-yeah. Fuck,” Jack hissed, struggling weakly.

Jensen pulled his arm up higher, just an inch or so from popping his shoulder. His breathing was heavy, blood pumped like bass drums through his veins as he spoke against the shell of Jack’s ear. “If you’re trying to screw us over—”

“I’m not!” Jack cried out, voice cracking with pain. “I’m fucking _not_ , okay?”

Jensen let go of Jack with a warning jostle. He wiped a hand across his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut for a second to gather his bearings.

Then he fixed Jack with a cold stare and jabbed a thumb towards the front door.

“Get out.”

 

 

Once alone, Jensen followed Chris outside to the garage.

Chris was seated behind the oversized fairing of Jared’s touring model Harley with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, just as Jensen had expected.

There was no doubt in Jensen’s mind that Chris had hovered by the door after he’d left the house, eavesdropping on his conversation with Jack and making sure Jensen was okay. Even pissed-off and butt-hurt, there was no way Chris would have left Jensen and Kelly alone with someone he didn’t trust.

Jensen walked up to his friend, smoothing his hand over the black varnish and the phoenix emblem of Jared’s Harley with reverence. The silence was thick between them.

Not even two weeks ago, Jared and he had taken the Harley for a ride to East Rock Park. The colorful boughs above them had blurred, brilliant shafts of sunlight falling through the tree crowns as Jared opened the throttle wide. Every breath of fresh air had set their senses on fire, making Jensen want to shout out loud, just to hear his voice echo amidst the trees.

It had been a good day.

“Please tell me that you don’t actually believe a word that comes from that fucker’s mouth,” Chris pleaded, staring at a point somewhere above Jensen’s shoulder.

Jensen leaned back against the workbench with a sigh. “I think he’s full of shit. There’s no way he’s not trying to double-cross us.”

Chris took a greedy drag from his cigarette and shook his head in disbelief. “Then why did you make a deal with him? What the fuck’s going on in your head, Jensen?”

Jensen let out a slow breath. “You ever play chess, Chris?”

Chris looked at Jensen as if he’d grown a second head.

Taking the silence for an answer, Jensen went on. "You can win a game of chess in different ways. Most people try to go for a material advantage. They take one piece after another off the board whenever their opponent makes a mistake. This is what Ty tries to do. He waits until one of us is alone or isolated. And tries to take them out."

Chris was listening avidly.

He didn’t say a word.

“But there’s another way to win a game.” Jensen elaborated. “ _Center control_ ,” he said. “The center of the board is the ultimate goal; the one thing a good player has to focus on. In order to win the game, you need to develop all your pieces and get them to the middle of the board, where their moves have the greatest impact.”

Chris looked at Jensen as though he had grown a second head. “... okay,” he said, sounding almost annoyed by Jensen’s impromptu chess lesson. He didn’t see the connection yet.

“Ty’s a rookie,” Jensen continued. “He wants to win in numbers, only thinks about material advantage. He assumes that by killing off members of the gang, he’ll win the game. He’s so damn focused on that task, that he forgets what’s important; the centerfold, he development of his own pieces. The _strategy_. And that’s where we come into play.”

Jensen could tell that he had Chris’ full attention now. The older man was leaning forward in the leather seat of the Harley, curiosity sparking in his grey eyes.

“I left Boston because I wanted to get Kelly out of harm’s way,” Jensen explained, shaking his head with a bitter snort. “But I can’t just sit around and do nothing while Ty’s out there killing our friends. I won’t. And neither will you. It’s time to get our pieces out of home rank, Chris. It’s time for us to make our move.”

“ _How?_ ” Chris questioned.

“We take Jack into our arms, just like he wants us to. We we feed him information - _false_ information - and he’ll take it all back to Ty, just like the goddamn rat he is. They’ll think themselves at an advantage while we subconsciously force every single one of Ty’s moves. He’ll be backed into a corner without even realizing it and then _—_ ”

“Checkmate,” Chris finished.

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed. “Checkmate.”

Chris just looked at Jensen for the longest of moments without saying anything. Eventually he  cleared his throat. "Anyone ever tell you that you're kinda scary when you get like this?”

Jensen shrugged the comment off, but inside, he felt as though a weight was lifted off his shoulders. This new development with Jack was a good thing. Jack was going to be their golden ticket to getting their old lives back and Jensen had every intention to use it.

Chris lifted himself off the Harley, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out.

“You’re pretty damn good at chess, huh?”

Pretty damn good was one way to put it.

Jensen had an Elo rating of 2670.

About a month before he met Jared for the first time, he had qualified for the Candidate Master title in World Chess Federation. He had started out with college courses and soon after signed up for nationwide contests. He'd pretty much won every single game after that and he sure as hell didn’t intend on losing this particular one.

"I'm decent.” A small smile played Jensen’s lips.

Ty was going _down._

 

__

 

They found an abandoned office building on the outskirts of Roxbury and set up residence. It wasn’t so much about getting out of Ty’s radar as it was about a change of scenery. They couldn’t be sure that they hadn’t overlooked any of those damn bugs in Chad’s house, which meant they needed a new environment, one that allowed them to speak with each other openly.

They had brought all the weapons they’d gotten from the Irish folks, along with a shitload of ammo, a few crates of beer, a box with med supplies and their motorcycles.

“Feels like we are in Criminal Minds,” Chase muttered as he hooked a power splitter up to the rusty generator Steve had dug out of his basement. “I’m a profiler.”

“You’re an idiot,” Steve corrected, hitting Chase up the side of his head. “Now shut up and see if you can hack into those cam records, Garcia. We’re gonna need you to focus.”

Jared didn’t pay them much attention, too busy taping a huge city map of Boston to the graffiti-sprayed walls of the abandoned brickwork. He tore a piece of silver duct tape with his teeth, strong hands smoothing out the crinkled map against the cold bricks.

“Need a hand?” Chad walked up to Jared, carrying two bottles of beer by the neck and then setting them down on the floor.

Jared pulled the tape out from beneath his teeth and finished his corner. “More like _ten_ hands. Thing’s fucking heavy.”

“What is it for?” Sandy asked from where she helped Chase sorting out cables.

“Geographic profiling,” Jared told them, pulling a box of pins and some yarn from his leather jacket. “I’m gonna mark all the places where the Reapers have recently caused a ruckus so we can see how far they’ve spread out of Roxbury.”

“Jensen’s rubbing off on you,” Chad commented in a dry tone, pursing his lips as Jared went to work. He looked mildly impressed. “In a good kind of way.”

Jared opened his mouth, but not before Steve suddenly started talking.

“Guys. Any of you read the fucking news today?” he said, voice laced with an urgency that instantly got all of their attention. Jared walked over to the table where Steve had unfolded a newspaper article in front of them. Sandy, Chase and Chad spread out around the table. The text was about the death of a few locals who got caught up in a crossfire in Mattapan. A drug bust gone wrong. There was a picture of a crossroad smeared with blood and a police tape securing the area. _‘One of the victims is a nine-year-old girl from Maine’_ the article read.

Jared was the first one to turn away again, face drenched of color as his fingers curled around the corner of the table top. He clenched his teeth so hard they protested under the strain, wishing like hell he could wrap them around Ty’s neck instead. “Fucking bastards.”

“You think it was them?” Chase asked.

“Of course it was them!” Steve barked, shooting Chase a glare. “Who the fuck do you think it was? Ty doesn’t give a fuck if a civilian gets caught up in the crossfire!”

“This isn’t just a civilian,” Sandy pointed out. “It’s a nine-year-old child!”

Jared felt sick as he walked back to his map and pushed the first pin into the decayed brick wall. “Sandy’s right, this has nothing to do with gang business. That’s barbaric.”

Sandy lifted tear-filled eyes to meet Chase’s across the table. They stared at each other for a moment before she lifted shaky fingers to her mouth She looked pale and shaky, as the reality of what had happened sank in. This girl was just a few years older than Elizabeth. And she got shot by one of Ty’s men. “I- I need some fresh air.”

Sandy stormed out the door before either of them could say or do anything to stop her. Chad called after her, but she didn’t spare him as much as a backwards glance. Silence dominated the air when she was gone, all eyes fixated on Chad as he stared after his girlfriend.

“Get your head out of your ass and follow her,” Steve ordered, giving Chad’s shoulder a gentle shove towards the exit. Ignoring his friend’s advice, Chad looked at Jared as if to silently ask him for instructions.

Jared gave him a long look before nodding his head towards the door.

“You heard him,” he said, voice gruff. “Go talk to her.”

 

 

Chad found Sandy pacing the graveled pathway outside the building. She was close to tears, grabbing fistfuls of hair while she spoke to someone on the phone in a hushed, but frantic tone.

Chad walked up to her and snatched the phone from her grasp, lifting it to his own ears. He didn’t even have to look at the caller name to figure out who Sandy had been calling.

“Katie, it’s Chad. Is Elle okay?”

 _“Yeah, she’s fine. Are you guys_ — _”_

“We’re good,” Chad reassured, meeting Sandy’s tear-filled gaze. “Go pack her bag, okay? Sandy and I are gonna pick her up in twenty. Nothing serious, we just need to see her.”

 _“Yeah,”_ Katie sounded surprised but empathetic. _“Sure. I’ll get her ready.”_

Chad hung up the phone and pressed it against his mouth.

Sandy was close to hyperventilating, she was so worked up. Her eyes were swimming with tears and her hands were shaking. “Our daughter is five years old and she knows what _gunfire_ sounds like. Now look into my damn eyes and tell me that she won’t be another casualty like this girl in the newspaper!”

She shoved Chad hard, causing him to stumble. “You said we were gonna be safe! But nothing’s changed, has it, Chad? Nothing will ever change!” She pummeled his chest with her fists, screaming at him through her tears, but this time he caught her wrists.

“Enough!” he snapped, loud enough to make her flinch. She struggled against him, trying to loosen herself from his grip, but Chad held on tight enough to keep her at arm’s length. She was small and slender, she didn’t stand a chance against Chad’s size and muscles.

“Enough,” he growled out for emphasis. Chad waited for her tear-filled gaze to meet his own and for her struggles to seize before he loosened his grasp and stroked a hand through her hair. “Our daughter will _not_ become a casualty.”

“You don’t know that,” Sandy shook her head.

“I do,” Chad persisted. “You wanna know why? Because I - and everyone else in the Legion? Will stop at nothing to keep her safe.”

Sandy let out a sad snort, shaking her head as she looked heavenward. “And what if the Legion falls apart?” she challenged. “What if there’s nothing left of your fucking gang, Chad? Then who do you have to protect us?”

“That won’t happen!” Chad snarled.

“It’s already happening! Don’t you see?” Sandy yelled back. She shook her head in the silence that followed. Some of the anger draining from her as she met Chad’s eyes. “I-I’m done with this, okay? I’m sorry, Chad. I won’t sacrifice my child for the sake of this gang.”

Chad shook his head, reaching out to touch her, but Sandy moved back, avoiding his touch. She looked heartbroken and miserable. “I’m gonna get Elle and bring her to my parents.”

Chad looked at her incredulously. “Your parents live in Arizona,” he huffed out as if she was joking, only that her expression was dead serious. “That’s all the way across the fucking country!”

Sandy fished a set of keys to her pick-up from her pocket and curled her fingers around them. “Chad, I… I love you. But Elle’s my daughter. I gotta do what’s best for her. And right now? What’s best for her, is to be as far away from you as possible.”

 

 

Jensen had started staying longer after school to paint. After his last class ended, he went straight to the art studio. He dropped his armful of books and art supplies onto the table with a loud clatter, stretching his arms over his head.

“Jen.”

He started, quickly whirling around to see Sophia standing in the doorway of the studio, observing him quietly.

“You following me?” Jensen teased. “I thought your last class finished hours ago.”

“I was waiting for you,” she explained and stepped closer, trying to sneak a peek at his latest masterpiece, even while it was still covered by a big white tarp. “Took a stroll through the campus, got myself some coffee, you know, the usual.”

“Uh-huh.” Jensen deliberately turned his back on her, setting up his easel. He opened his art kit and withdrew a couple of brushes, before filling an empty glass with turpentine. After a minute or so of Jensen setting up his art utensils, Jensen eventually sighed. “Alright, spill. What do you want?”

Sophia’s cheeks were flushed and her pupils were skirting from side to side in what was very clearly nervosity. “Look, I know you’re not the kinda guy to ever ask for help and I know you are more than capable to take care of yourself, but… is Fuller giving you trouble? He’s been giving you creepy looks and I’ve seen him corner you in the hallways.”

Jensen’s eyes fell closed for a moment. Of course Sophia had to go and stick her nose into stuff that didn’t concern her.

“You looked really uncomfortable,” Sophia hesitantly continued. “Jensen. Is he… is he getting handsy with you or something?”

Jensen’s heart sank with dread and suddenly his painting was forgotten. Sophia had no reason to think that unless... _Oh god._

“Did he touch you?” Jensen asked, voice harsh with worry. He took a step forward, grabbing Sophia’s shoulder and giving it a light shake. “Sophia, did he do anything to you?”

Sophia shook her head with a confused frown. “No, never. I don’t… Jensen, I don’t think I have anything to offer that would interest him.”

Jensen’s eyes dulled, his heartbeat slowing down again. Fuller was married and had two kids with his wife. But that didn’t keep him from creepily staring at every good-looking male student or professor in the faculty. The guy was so deeply closeted, he was guaranteed to be stuck in ‘Narnia’ for the rest of his miserable, bigoted life. So while Sophia could often get away with being late to class by wearing a shirt with a plunging neckline, Fuller had always been unaffected by her curves.

 _Good._ Jensen could deal with a bit of unwanted attention as long as it wasn‘t directed on anyone else.

“I noticed the way he looks at you,” Sophia elaborated. “He gives me some serious creeper-vibes, okay? And now you’re pregnant and _—_ ”

“I got it handled.” Jensen shot her down with a stern look on his face. He appreciated her concern, but there was nothing she could do to make this situation better for him. In fact, the less Sophia got involved with a guy like Fuller, the better. Jensen would never forgive himself if she got tangled up in this mess because of him.

“But—”

“It’s none of your business, Sophia, okay?” Jensen snapped and then instantly regretted it, when he saw the flicker of hurt in Sophia’s eyes.

“Jensen, if he’s doing anything inappropriate, you should report him.”

“There’s nothing to report,” Jensen snapped. “Now would you mind? I’m trying to get some actual work done here.”

“Jensen—”

“Give it a fucking rest, alright?!” Jensen yelled and Sophia’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes widening in shock. She hovered close for a moment, seemingly unsure of how to react, her eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and anger.

“Fine,” she eventually huffed out and turned around, rushing out of the studio.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Jensen cursed and ran his hands through his light brown strands, tugging on his hair until his eyes burned.

Couldn’t one fucking day pass without him pissing off the people around him? Why was it, that all Jensen seemed to be capable of in the past days was hurting his friends?

He turned back towards the easel and kicked it, causing it to topple over with a loud clatter and knocking the canvas to the ground in the process. Acrylic paint splattered against the tiled floor around him, spraying his jeans in the process. A bottle of turpentine shattered into a thousand shards, the smell sharp and acidic as it filled the air.

“FUCK!” he yelled.

His voice echoed hauntingly through the eerily silent studio, but Jensen wasn’t the only one listening.

 

 

Jensen felt odd, making use of the old showers in the faculty.

He stepped into the stall with trepidation, shivering in the cold. He flinched when his toes touched the chilled ceramic floor. His mind was in shreds, images from the last couple of days floating around in his mind as he turned the dial, rusty metal pipes screeching to life, releasing thousands of lukewarm drops. The water cascaded down his body, darkening his hair and trickling down his back. His eyes fell closed and he tried to wash away the memories, his fight with Chris, the fight with Danneel - the fallout with Jared, the doctor’s words about his baby’s chances at survival.

And Jack’s words, still fresh in his mind about Jared’s execution.

He tried to conjure up an image of Jared, a memory of the three of them together and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out any other thoughts or emotions.

_It was a hot, sunny day and Jensen was sitting on a blanket next to the playground, reading a book. He had been on the same page for almost two hours, now, watching Jared and their son carefully over the top of his sunglasses. Kelly kicked the ball and it rolled over to where Jensen sat._

_“Pass the ball?” Jared yelled at him._

_Jensen put his book aside and got up from the ground, stretching his limbs with a lazy smile on his face. He kicked the ball up in the air and caught it with his hands, looking at Jared. “You mean this one?” he teased._

_Jared walked closer and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his V-neck. His cheeks were flushed from all the playing and roughhousing he had done, hours of keeping Kelly occupied just so Jensen could study for his upcoming med exams. And Jensen couldn’t help but lick his lips in appreciation at all the glorious tattooed, sweaty muscle in front of him- at the way Jared’s hair curled against the base of his neck._

_“Yeah, that one,” Jared played along with the teasing. “Give it back.”_

_Jensen smiled.  “Why don’t you come and get it, big guy?”_

_Jared tilted his head to the side, a slow, gleeful smile spreading on his lips. He charged forward, knocking Jensen to the blanketed ground and caused them both to go down in a tangle of limbs as the ball rolled away. Jared somehow ended up on top of him, with his arms propped against the ground on either side of Jensen’s head. He had grass in his hair and a dimpled grin on his face and Jensen felt a burst of love so fierce that it took his breath away. „You were saying?“ Jared cocked an eyebrow at him. Jensen reached up to cup the side of his face just as Jared leaned down to slot their mouths together, their eyes falling closed as they deepened the kiss._

_“Daddy!” Kelly yelled, running over to stand beside his parents. “Daddy! The ball! Come back and play with me, daddy!”_

_Jared grinned against Jensen as they reluctantly parted. He reached over Jensen’s head to snatch the soccer ball from the grass and got back up, dusting off his jeans with a wink in Jensen’s direction. “You gonna go back to pretend-reading the med stuff you already know or you gonna come play with us, professor?”_

Jensen let out a shuddering breath, focusing on the cracked tiles beneath his feet and letting the water wash away the memories, when a creaking noise caused him to go rigid in the shower stall. Everything inside of him froze at the sound of a creaking locker door.

“Sophia?” he called out above the steady pitter-patter of water hitting the tiles, but he was met with was silence.

Frowning he shut off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist.

Had he only imagined it? Then why did he feel like he was being watched?

_‘Stop being paranoid, Jensen. It was probably nothing.’_

Listening into the silence for a minute or so, Jensen shook his head with a slight huff of air and stepped out of the shower, wiping the fogged-up mirror clear with a swipe of his palm.

 

 

“Jay, we got a problem,” Chase said, tugging on Jared’s sleeve and throwing a nervous glance around the warehouse.

“Fuck off,” snapped Chad, who was still distraught from his fight with Sandy and her sudden departure. “Can’t you see that Jay and I are talking? Pick a fucking number.”

Chase flipped Chad the bird, giving him an unimpressed look. “Not my fault your girl ran off to Arizona, asshole. Now this can’t fucking wait, okay? It’s important.”

Jared set his beer down and turned around to fully face Chase, one eyebrow raised in question. “What’s wrong?”

"I've hacked the security cameras from that grocery store in Alrington Rd. It's right opposite to Rich's parlor."

Chase typed something into his laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard as a black window full of green letters and numbers popped up on his screen. It was kind of scary sometimes, how good he was at this whole computer crap. Jared watched as the black screen on Chase's desktop morphed into an actual video footage of the street Rich's tattoo parlor was in. "Look at this, man. I didn't see it at first, but..."

There, in the corner of the video screen, barely visible from the shadows of the alleyway were handlebars or a motorbike. On the bike's fender was a skull and bones ornament. Jared would recognize the bike anywhere.

"Is this live?" Jared asked. He felt a pressure building up in his chest, tight and uncomfortable. "Is this a live footage?"

"Yeah, this is real time. I told you it's the security recording."

Just when Jared wanted to reply, he caught sight of  movement in the corner of the screen.

Somebody stepped off the bike, heavy boots hitting the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt. A large, broad-shouldered frame appeared in the center of the screen and Jared's heart grew heavy with a dark sense of foreboding, a shiver wrecking his spine. Ty adjusted the gun that was sticking out of the back of his jeans, letting his leather jacket drape over the hilt to hide it. He was flanked by four of his men, all wearing the same skull-and-bone logo on their jackets as they walked towards Rich's parlor.

_No. Nonononono._

“Everyone, get going NOW!” Jared beckoned as his feet started moving. He grabbed his gun and loaded his leather jacket with a stash of amo, even as he moved toward the warehouse exit. “Rich’s parlor. We got a code red.”

 

 

Jared knew that he came too late, even before he stepped off his bike.

In the dim light that oozed from the narrow gap of the street lay the alleyway with the tattoo parlor. It was gloomy and unpleasant just like it had always been, crumbling plaster enveloping graffiti-sprayed bricks. Darkness lurking inside the labyrinth of narrow passages and dead ends. There was no sign of bikes anywhere between the sprawling rot. But the smell of decay and blood lay heavy in the air, permeating the vile stink of trash. The sign of the parlor was flickering in the lurking darkness like an omen of death.

He knew it, as soon as he idled the engine.

He had known that he would be too late, even before he had seen Ty’s broad shouldered frame entering the camera footage Chase had shown him.

It only took a second to press a trigger or to swing a baseball bat.

One second determining the life or death of a friend.

Jared slipped off Steve’s yellow Ducati, the heavy feeling of dread and denial pulsing through his veins. His feet were leaden with revulsion, barely able to move as he made his way towards Rich’s parlor.

The shop windows were all shattered, the glass crunching beneath Jared’s biker boots as he pulled his gun from the back of his jeans with shaky fingers. Somewhere in the distance, the rest of the gang was speeding down the road, getting closer. Jared had gone so fast, he’d lost them somewhere on the way.

“Rich?” Jared called out, hating the way his voice shook as he stepped through the doorway of the parlor that was barely recognizable. Whatever the Reapers had done to the parlor before, it must have paled in comparison to the way it looked now. Every piece of furniture was upturned or broken, the framed shots of Rich’s masterpieces on the wall were all smashed and tossed to the ground in a ruthless effort to seek and destroy.

Jared walked toward the back of the parlor and the his heart sank with dread, a sick sense of fear unfolding in his chest like poison when the smell of blood grew thick enough to choke him. “Rich?!” Jared’s voice wavered.

He pushed the door to the back of the parlor open and then gagged at the sight before him.

The gun slipped from his hand as he fell back against the doorframe, the sturdy wood the only thing keeping him up as he lifted his forearm to his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut against an onslaught of sickness.

Taking a second to compose himself, Jared opened his eyes again and blinked through a tear-filled vision at Rich’s lifeless body, sprawled out in his own leather seat - the very same shop seat Jared had sat in so often to get his tattoos done in the past. In the center of his chest, impaling him like a fucking knife, was his coil - the tattoo machine sticking out of his bare chest right above his heart in an obscure picture of gruesomeness. Rich’s eyes were open and dully staring at the ceiling, blood was coating his lips and chin in what must have been his final attempts at talking, at pleading for them to stop this torture. And in the center of his forehead, daunting and provocative and _cruel_ beyond anything Jared had ever seen - was a memento for eternity. The words ‘TRAITOR’ had been sloppily tattooed into Rich’s forehead like the engravings of a tombstone.

Jared stumbled out of the room, out of the parlor, knocking into broken furniture and damn near tripping over his own legs in his haste to get out. His knees hit the ground outside, broken shards of glass digging into his skin but the pain didn’t even register through the white noise of blood rushing to his head, heart racing painfully in his chest. He couldn’t think straight beyond the onslaught of _‘He’s dead. Rich is dead. They killed him’_ in his head. _‘They fucking butchered him.’_

Jared curled his fingers into the dirty concrete and retched, throwing up last night’s dinner and breakfast. He coughed and gagged until tears filled his eyes, when a hand suddenly smoothed down his back. He jerked in shock and twisted around to see Steve hovering behind him, closely followed by Chas and Katie. They looked at Jared in a mixture of horror and shocked resignation, realizing what must have happened.

“You hurt?” Steve asked and pulled Jared back to his feet. Jared wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still shaky on his legs as he clung to Steve like he was the only thing keeping him upright. He was breathing heavily, unable to look his friends in the eyes. His knees and palms were scraped raw and bleeding from the shards of glass on the ground, but he didn’t care. He was numb, frozen solid inside.

When Katie moved towards the entrance of the parlor Jared’s hand shot out to stop her.

“ _Don’t_ ,” he husked out in a gruff voice.

He knew the sight of Rich’s lifeless eyes staring up at him would haunt him until his dying day and he didn’t want for anyone else to suffer through the same torment.

“But—” Katie looked back towards the parlor, fear and desperation shining in her eyes.

Jared just shook his head.

“No,” he rasped out. “Just… _don’t._ ”

_It' too late._

 

__

 

Fuller licked his lips appreciatively as he lurked in the shadows, safely hidden from sight behind one of the locker doors. He watched as Jensen’s muscles tensed and relaxed beneath the spray of cold water, brunette hair matted to his forehead and plump lips opened slightly to breathe through his mouth.

Beautiful. This man was unashamedly beautiful.

He wasn’t overly muscular and yet his abs were defined, his whole body lean and compact in a way it would never be if you didn’t work out. He had wide shoulders and a small waist, freckles spattered across the skin like brown paint on a clean canvas. A trail of dark blonde hair scattered down his chest to disappear into a thatch of curls at his groin.

Fuller swallowed, his mouth going dry as he watched Jensen wash his hair and then his pits. He was thorough, like he had no problem taking his time to get clean.

Fuller watched as Jensen’s hands rubbed soap all over his chest and stomach and it was only then that he noticed it. A small, jagged-looking scar the size of a fingernail sat about an inch above his hip bone. The scar was like washed out fishbone on his abdomen, shiny and mocking, like the ghostly echo of the bullet that had caused it. Fuller frowned. Ackles was a child prodigy. A genius. Smart and humble and gorgeous. The guy was bound to get a Nobel prize and here he stood, wearing gunshot scars like fuckin polka dots on his otherwise impeccable body. How in Dante's nine-circled hell did he get a bullet wound like that?

When Jensen turned fully around to grab the bottle of shower gel, Fuller was in for an even bigger surprise.

A black phoenix was covering Jensen’s left collarbone and pectoral, just like the one Fuller had spotted on Jared’s motorcycle the other week. How _romantic._ Fuller let out a disgusted snort that thankfully couldn’t be heard over the sound of rainwater hitting the tiles. Figures that Padalecki would somehow manage to drag someone as perfect as Jensen to the mud with him, causing him to get inked up like a lowlife from the streets.

Fuller clamped his mouth shut, jaw working furiously as he tried to calm his breathing down.

It was ridiculous that a guy like Jensen would ever fall for someone like Padalecki. That someone of Jensen’s intellect would willingly give himself to that good-for-nothing, floppy-haired kid in a bodysuit.

Jensen’s hand dipped down to his groin and Fuller’s pulse spiked. His fingers twitched with the need to touch the ivory skin, to smooth slick hands over that perfect flank. Lost in thought, Fuller overbalanced and hit his elbow against the locker door, causing it to creak.

Jensen’s head snapped around as if his senses were fine-tuned to danger- as if he always expected someone to be right around the corner, ready to attack him. “Sophia?”

_‘It’s not your nosy little friend, Ackles. You drove her away with your snappish attitude, remember? It’s just you and me, now.’_

Discarding his worry, Jensen drove a hand through his soaked hair and stepped out of the shower, shutting the water off. He snatched a towel from the rack and started wiping himself down. Then he brushed his palm across the fogged-up mirror glass, before studying his reflection for a moment. He had his towel wrapped around his hips now, and Fuller couldn’t help but appreciate the swell of that tight ass, the way the shower water slowly trickled down his freckle-kissed back. Jensen was about to get himself dressed, when his cell phone suddenly started chirping.

He checked the caller ID and then, with a concerned frown, picked up. “Hello?”

_“It’s me.”_

Padalecki’s voice was audible in the silence of the bathroom stall, echoing through the otherwise vacant room.

Fuller barely suppressed a groan. Figured that that oaf of a man managed to interfere, even from miles away.

Something in Jensen’s expression softened, his eyes filled with a gentle warmth that Fuller could only interpret as _love._ It caused bile to rise in Fuller's throat.

“Jay,” Jensen breathed out, fingers locked tight around the phone. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the bathroom sink. “Are you alright?”

 _“No,”_ Padalecki admitted in a broken whisper, his voice rough with emotion. _“I’m really not.”_

Fuller frowned. He had seen Padalecki with his muscles and tattoos and that monstrosity he called a motorcycle. To imagine the very same guy, so intent on coming off as untouchable, suddenly close to tears caught Fuller’s full attention.

_“They killed Rich.”_

Jensen took the news like a spoonful of bitter medicine being pushed down his throat, eyes widening and breath catching as he processed the words. He spun around, propping himself up on the sink as he squeezed his eyes shut and Fuller could see the blood drain from the young man’s face, could see him go ghostly pale in the blink of a second.

“How?” he whispered.

_“Fuck, Jense… It was a massacre.”_

Fuller’s fingers dug into the locker door that hid him from Jensen’s sight. These guys were discussing murder like they were talking about the fucking weather and Fuller was _hooked._

_“I should have been there to prevent it.”_

Jensen shook his head. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

_“Yeah, there is. I should have let myself get locked up all these years ago instead of Jeff. It would have spared a whole lotta people a whole lotta pain.”_

A smile spread across Fuller’s lips. He had _known_ that this Padalecki guy must have had skeletons in the closet. It didn’t really come to a surprise that he was the filthy criminal Fuller had always suspected he was, doing time in prison.

Jensen ran a hand over his face, carding fingers through his wet hair.  “Jared, stop. Do you have any idea what I’d do if…” His voice wavered and died. He looked as if he was close to breaking down, eyes brimming with tears. “I can’t do this without you.”

_“I’m not the same when I’m here. The things I've done - how far I'm willing to go… I don’t know what you’d think of me if you knew what I’ve become... what I'm capable of.”_

Jensen curled his lips inside his mouth and gave a slow nod. “I’ve been in that warehouse, remember? I’ve seen what you’re capable of. And I know - more than anyone in the entire world - that you do the things you do for a reason, Jay.” He was breathing heavily now, clearly getting more and more worked up as he relived the memories. “There’s a darkness in all of us. But that doesn’t make us bad people.”

There was a silence that followed the heartfelt admission.

A heavy, meaningful silence.

Then Padalecki spoke up again. _“I got a feeling that Rich’s death was only the beginning. And I know I said it wasn’t going to end bloody, but if it does....”_

“Jay—”

_“If it does, I want you to know that I’m sorry. For putting you through all of this. For everything you had to live through because of me.”_

Jensen’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Yeah, well, I’m not. I’m not sorry for anything. Not a goddamn thing, you hear me?”

There was silence on the other end as Jensen’s resolve hardened, his expression determined. “I’m gonna need you to see this thing through. I’m gonna need you to do whatever necessary, to come back to your family. I need you to come back to me, Jay.” Jensen’s voice changed from determined to downright desperate and Fuller could tell that the kid wasn't faking. The fear of losing his boyfriend was real. The despair was almost palpable. “Losing you is not an option, okay? I- I can’t do this without you. I _refuse_ to.”

Fuller’s lips curled into a morose smile as a dark glimmer of glee nestled deep in his chest.

All this time he had tried to get Jensen’s attention. He had sweet-talked and bribed and imposed his authority. He had watched and cornered and even threatened without any form of feasible results. But he’d been going about this the wrong way this whole time. All this time he had knocked himself out trying to get Jensen’s attention and now he finally had the necessary tool to crack the kid open.

Desperation.

Love - fierce enough to destroy you.

And it _would_ destroy him.

Fuller was going to make sure of that.

His grin widened as he crept back into the shadowed locker room, hastily making his way through the narrowed hallways and back to his office. He was still smiling when he dialed the number of an old friend of his, waiting for the former FBI agent to pick up his phone. _“Hello?”_

“It’s Kurt Fuller, Randy. Remember me?”

_“Kurt.. yeah, sure. What can I do for you?”_

“Remember that favor you owe me for getting your daughter admitted to med school? I’m gonna need you to give me everything you got on a guy named Jared Padalecki. Police records, official statements, press releases, the name of the agent who worked his case. Everything you can get your hands on.”

_“Those files are strictly confidential, Kurt. I could lose my job if—”_

“It’s either you losing your job or your daughter losing her spot in Yale.”

_“But you can’t just—”_

“I can and I will,” Fuller gave back, leaving no doubt about his intentions. “You got a day to send me everything you got.”

He slammed the phone down with a vindictive smile on his face and then leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head, when a freshly-showered Jensen passed by his office in the outside hallway.

A grin spread over Fuller’s face, wide and threatening, showing his over-whitened teeth. In that moment his motives were laid bare; he was a mocker, one who enjoyed whatever torment he could inflict on others and for a brief second Jensen caught a foretaste of it.

 **‘Soon’** **he thought to himself as Jensen moved out of his line of vision.** _**_‘Soon’._ ** _

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!! I really, really hope you guys liked the new chapter! Special thanks, as always, goes to my amazingly helpful, creative and patient beta Kimenem! :) 
> 
> I promise the next update will be faster. Reviews keep me going! I'd appreciate it if you could take a minute to share your thoughts :) Xoxo


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNINGS* for extreme graphic violence & graphic descriptions of physical torture. Bad language. Trigger warnings for *NON-CON* - elements. Non-consensual kissing. Psychological torture, blackmailing/extortion. Physical violence. Gang violence. Hope you guys enjoy the new chapter!!

**Open Highway  
Chapter 10**

There were two ways to respond to Rich’s death - acceptance or vengeance. But Jared had a reputation to keep, which meant there was really only one way to deal with this.

“You’re a psychopath,” Harry ‘Tweener’ Bellick spat out between pained wheezes of breath. He was staring right at Jared, eyes wide with fear, blood dribbling from his chin.

“Gee, Tweener.” Jared curled his fingers into the guy’s shirt. “You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”

The punch came out of nowhere, a fierce roundhouse right to his cheek and Bellick’s head snapped back so hard his neck made an unhealthy noise.

“Where. The fuck. Is Ty?”

Bellick swallowed down the blood in his throat. “D-don’t you wanna buy me a drink first?”

Jared exchanged a look with Steve, who sat on a chair next to them.

The fucker wouldn’t be able to keep this attitude for very long, but as long as he was conscious he would try. That was, unless the pain grew unbearable.

Snatching his knife from the table next to them, Jared shook his head in disbelief. “Out of all the Reapers out there, we got ourselves the sarcastic one. Can you believe our fucking luck, Steve?“

Steve sat on the chair backward, legs spread wide and hanging off the edges. His arms rested on the top rail, Taurus loose in his grasp. “Makes me feel right at home.”

Jared grabbed a fistful of Bellick’s hair and pulled his head back, exposing his throat. Bellick swallowed roughly when Jared looked down at him, running his knife along the guy’s throat with just enough pressure to nick the first layer of skin. “Now’d be a good time to talk.”

The bastard shivered, watching Jared from the corner of his eye.

The tip of Bellick’s tongue darted out to wet his blood-coated lips as he drew in a shuddery breath. There was no denying it, the guy was scared shitless, but what use was it to them if he didn’t talk? He would never rat out his friends, not in a million years.

Bellick’s brown eyes stared back into Jared’s own hazel ones with a glint of defiance.

The guy was obviously proud of himself for playing the martyr.

“Go ahead kill me,” Bellick spat out. “Only thing I regret is that I won’t be around to see your face when they color the streets of South Boston with your blood, Padalecki.”

The guy spat in Jared’s face, a big glob of bloodied spittle hitting Jared on the cheek.

Wiping the mess from his face, Jared shot to his feet and landed a solid kick to the chair Bellick was tied to, toppling it to the ground. He straddled the chair lightning fast, sitting on Bellick’s trussed-up legs and pressing his arm against the guy’s shoulder and digging the blade into Bellick’s neck. “That's a vivid imagination you have, but I’ll tell you a little secret,” he whispered gleefully, leaning down to make himself heard. “I’m not the one that’s gonna die tonight.”

Reaching around to the guy’s tied hands, Jared pulled one of his biker gloves off and shoved it in Tweener’s mouth. He was really damn tired of hearing whatever stupid remarks Bellick came up with. The fucker whined a bit into that fancy Italian leather of his, a few muffled grunts escaping his lips. Jared moved off of him and flipped the chair over so Bellick away from him, then slicing through the ropes that tied the bastard’s ankle to the chair, cutting his leg loose.

“You know what the best feeling in the world is?” Jared asked Bellick almost casually as he held his ankle in a punishing grip, fingers digging hard into the guy’s leg.

Bellick craned his neck to try and see him, poor bastard, wondering what Jared was going to do.

“What’s the best damn feeling in the world, Steve?” Jared asked his friend with amusement in his tone. Steve returned his even stare, totally unfazed by what Jared was about to do.

Steve played along with a wry smile on his lips. “Riding my bike full throttle.”

Jared grinned. “Damn right it is. Just you, your bike and that open road ahead of you, not a thought on your mind, then you open that throttle wide, knees almost skimming the ground. The wind hits you so hard you can barely breathe and the world around you’s just a haze of colors. There’s no greater rush, nothing that compares. It’s better than a good steak, better than sex, better than _anything_ , am I right Steve?" 

“Damn straight, Jay,” Steve agreed.

Jared rolled the bottom of Bellick’s pant leg up, bracing himself as he felt the bastard tense up at the same time. He rested the edge of his knife against Tweener’s Achilles tendon and waited for his reaction. Sure enough, the fucker started thrashing around in his restraints, muscles tensing frantically as he threw his head back and forth, screaming muffled curses into the glove. He almost choked on the damn thing he was yelling so hard when realization finally hit him.

It was exactly the reaction Jared had been looking for. He felt himself smile, some sort of horrible wicked smile as he pushed the knife into the skin. Bellick cried out again, his eyes squeezing shut as more tears formed at the edges of his vision.

Jared started to saw at his foot, cutting first through the pale layers of skin and then deeper, blood gushing around the knife’s blade. He tilted the knife in the wound and saw the tendon and muscle twitching wildly while Tweener cried and thrashed and begged Jared to stop.

“I’m gonna ask you one last time,” Jared growled. “You’re gonna tell me where Ty is or you won’t be riding your bike again for the rest of your miserable, pathetic excuse of a life. In fact, you won’t ever be standing upright again when I’m through with you.”

Yanking the glove out of Tweener’s mouth, Jared listened to him sputter and cough for a few seconds. He started crying out loud then, screaming at Jared to stop, _please stop_ , he’d do anything for them if Jared just stopped.

It was the moment Jared discarded the guy as worthless. If he wasn’t talking now, he never would.

“Don’t you fucking do this! This isn’t worth it!” The guy bawled, his eyes red with tears and pain. 

“You’re right,” Jared said, watching the guy degrade himself, feeling smug to see the shithead put in his place. “You’re a waste of my fucking time.”

He sawed through the flesh again, farther this time, digging deep enough to get to the tendon. The thing was almost ridiculously hard to get through. The guy lay there, sobbing and crying for his fucking mother, his gang members, for a god- any sort of god - to come save him. The tendon eventually snapped and Jared wrinkled his nose in disgust.

He wiped the blood from the blade with his black shirt before stashing it away and sending Steve a look over the shoulder. “He’s useless. Let’s go.”

They were done here.

 

 

It was weird having Jack around the house.

Just short of an hour after Jack had shown up on their doorstep, Jensen was starting to have serious doubts about whether he could pull this thing off or not. It was one thing to talk about their plan in theory, but having Jack so close to his son, in their home, was proving to be much harder than Jensen had expected.

For the past hour, Jensen had been _baking._ Anyone who knew him, knew that it was never a good sign to find Jensen going gung-ho in the kitchen. Except for a few dishes that Jensen knew how to prepare without major accidents, Jared was usually left to do the cooking and baking. The only time when Jensen was doing either, was when he was in serious need of a distraction. Like now.

Jensen’s cinnamon buns had risen from their muffin pan casings like unfurled telescopes. Before they’d even been out of the oven a full minute there was an empty spot in the tray and Kelly was nowhere to be seen. Instead of chastising Kelly, Jensen had seen his son’s stealth as an accomplishment and turned back to focus on the next task at hand, chocolate chip cookies.

“So Jensen,” Jack started. “Tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an art school teacher,” Jensen gave back in a clipped tone.

Jack had been trying to get a conversation going for at least half an hour and Jensen found himself irritated and snappish, pissed-off by the fact that this bastard was sitting at their kitchen table like he fucking belonged there.

“Art school. Really?” Jack frowned. “You seem more the studious type, like you should have gone into law or—”

“Medicine?” Jensen wagered, his back still turned on Jack as he opened the oven and was hit by a brick wall of cookie-smell.

“Yeah. How did you know I was gonna say that?“

“Intuition,” Jensen shot back and then, not paying attention to the task at hand, burned his hand on the oven tray because he forgot to put on his oven mitten.

Fucking pregnancy brain.

He hissed and whirled around towards the sink to hold his burned finger under cold water, when Jack was suddenly there, blocking his path.

“You know,” Jack said, pulling the tray of cookies from the oven with a dishtowel. “I’m not sure why you’re trying to pull this whole Betty Crocker act off for me, but why don’t you stop and give me more than one-syllable answers for a change?”

Jensen’s eyes narrowed to slits. He glanced around the house to make sure Kelly wasn’t within earshot before he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “We had a deal, Jack,” he reminded him. “How come you didn’t warn me about what Ty had planned with Rich? There’s no way you couldn’t have known about that.”

“I didn’t,” Jack hissed and dumped the tray with cookies on the kitchen isle with a loud clatter. “I heard them talking about Rich a few times before, but I didn’t know they’d go to such lengths.”

“What did you _think_ they were gonna do?” Jensen snapped. “Send him a _gift basket_?”

“Papaaa!!” Kelly’s voice suddenly interrupted their conversation and they both turned around to see Chris piggybacking Kelly through the living room while the four-year-old munched away on a cinnamon bun. “Look at me, papa! Uncle Chris is my horse!”

“I can see that, buddy.” Jensen couldn’t help but smile at his son’s antics, the anger he’d felt a second ago quickly evaporating. Cookies and uncle Chris were a surefire way to get the toddler’s mood up. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to distract him from the fact that Jared was still missing.

“Can we call daddy?” Kelly asked with a hopeful smile on his face.

Jensen sent a last warning glare at Jack, poking a finger in the guy’s chest as his eyes narrowed in distrust. “Any other surprises and the next one with a coil sticking out of their chest is you,” he threatened under his breath before slapping his poker face back on and turning to face his son.

Chris set the toddler down before ruffling the kid’s hair and walking over to the open kitchen.

“Papa, please?” Kelly said with that doe-eyed look that Jensen was helplessly prone to. “Can we call daddy now? I miss him.”

Jensen ignored the way his throat closed up at the words and picked up his phone from the kitchen counter. He had tried not to call or text Jared because he knew where Jared’s headspace was after what had happened with Rich. But an opportunity to hear Jared’s voice, for even just a minute or two, was too tempting to pass up.

Dialing Jared’s number, the phone went to voicemail instantly and Jensen’s heart sank.

He tried it two more times before exchanging a worried glance with Chris.

“Maybe they’re busy,” Chris suggested with a shrug of his shoulders.

The toddler’s bottom lip wobbled, his piercing blue eyes rapidly welling with tears at the prospect of not being able to talk to his father. Chris wiped at his tears with his thumb. “Hey, none of that. I’m sure your dad’s just sitting on his motorcycle right now. He can’t pick up his phone when he’s riding his bike, remember?”

Jensen was thankful for Chris’s distraction method, but the words did nothing to soothe his frayed nerves. He could only imagine that Jared was on some kind of killing spree to avenge Rich’s death.

Jensen’s phone started vibrating and he picked it up without looking. “Jared, thank god—”

“Uh, it’s Luke, actually,” a hesitant voice greeted on the other end and Jensen’s eyes fell closed in disappointment. Luke. Luke Pikeman from the clinic - with the boyish look and the massive crush on him. Of course. “Am I calling at a bad time?” Luke asked and Jensen kind of wanted to laugh because _yeah, big time._

“Hey, man. What can I do for you?” Jensen asked instead of giving a direct answer. “Our shift doesn’t start until three, right?”

“That’s why I’m calling,” Luke explained. “Dr. Phillis asked us to come in early. The flu’s making the rounds and the clinic is short-handed.”

Jensen drove a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “Yeah, okay. Let me just… I gotta call my boss and switch shifts. I’ll see you there, alright?”

“Great,” Luke said, sounding happy. “It’s good to have you back, you know?”

Jensen pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. This kid better not make this out to be some sort of romantic get-together.

“See you soon, Luke,” Jensen sighed and hung up the phone. He dusted the flour from his jeans and rounded the kitchen counter, passing Jack on his way over to the open living room where Chris was playing with Kelly.

“They need me at the clinic,” Jensen explained. “I have one more lecture after that, so not sure when I’ll be back.”

“You know you should lay low, right?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “The stress isn’t—”

“—good for me, yeah, I know.” Jensen pocketed his cell phone and car keys, completely ignoring the words. He pressed a kiss to Kelly’s temple and then snatched his jacket from the back of the couch before sending Chris a last lingering look. “Let me know if Jay calls, okay? Not sure I got reception in the clinic.”

After all, a little distraction couldn’t hurt.

 

 

Doctor Phillis, dressed in her pristinely white hospital coat, towered over all of the nurses and medical trainees like an impending thunderstorm. Eyes popping, hair pulled back in a tight bun, she gave them all a quick glance before letting out a long sigh and looking down at her clipboard.

"Thank you all for being flexible with your shifts today. I'm gonna send you all to different units and the respective doctors on duty will give you instructions."

Phillis went on to call names from the list and Jensen frowned when she skipped 'Ackles' in the beginning. After a few minutes, Jensen was the only one left standing next to the doctor.

"You're gonna spend the day in the ER with me, Mr. Ackles."

Jensen frowned at her. Strictly speaking, Jensen wasn’t a doctor yet, which meant he wasn't allowed to diagnose or administer medication without supervision. In other words, he wasn't really of any use in the emergency room. "Doctor, do you really think—"

"I think you are a highly qualified aspiring medical professional, Jensen," she shot him down and pulled a sheet of paper from her clipboard. "If anyone’s capable of handling the ER with me, it’s you. I want you to start with Emma Wilson, 89 years old. She's suffered from a pneumothorax. I'll be just down the hallway, so holler if you need my help."

Jensen stared after her in bafflement as she walked past him, white coat fluttering like the wings of a bird.  
   
He easily found his patients in one of the shared rooms in general care class. The woman in bed was old beyond natural lifespan and paying the price for it. While her heart kept beating stubbornly in her chest, her skin was so fragile it almost looked transparent. Jensen approached the bed slowly, letting his footsteps sound so as not to startle her. Reaching out to gently touch her arm, he called her name. "Ms. Wilson? My name’s Jensen, I'm here to examine you."  
   
After no reaction, Jensen gently lifted her arm. Nothing. Heart kicking up with mild unease, Jensen pressed to fingers to her throat only to feel a sluggish pulse against his fingertips. Her hand moved feebly as if to swat at a fly, but she missed him by inches. "I'm not dead, yet," she spoke in a wilted voice.  
   
“You gave me a scare, there, for a second.” Jensen swallowed. “I’m going to help you sit up and perform a few checks, okay?”

The woman nodded and Jensen slung his arm around her bony back before gently propping her up against the pillows. "This may feel a bit cold." He pressed the stethoscope over her back and listened to her breathing. There were pronounced crackles in her right and left lower lung.  
   
Removing the stethoscope, Jensen pulled back to look his patient in the eyes. "I'm afraid we're going to have to put you on nasal oxygen prongs for an hour or two, Mrs. Wilson. We'll see how that goes and once you feel better, we'll do a lung x-ray and put you on intravenous antibiotics."  
   
The old woman listened carefully, then gave Jensen a slow up-and-down look. "How come you haven't been around before, Doctor? They always keep the good-looking for last?”  
   
Jensen gave a shy smile in response. "It's good to see that you haven't lost your humor, Ma'am."

“Laughter is food for the soul,” she returned wisely. “My late husband used to say that all the time. He kept repeating the same lame jokes over and over again. It used to drive me crazy, but I loved him.”

Jensen swallowed, gaze dropping to the floor. He couldn’t even remember when he’d last laughed - really _laughed_ \- from the bottom of his heart, full body shaking with it. It had been way too long.  
   
"Have you ever been in love, dear? I mean _really_ in love?"  
   
"Yeah." Jensen answered without a second’s thought. "Yeah, I have,” he repeated, feeling the truth of the words deep within his chest. It was a bit crazy sometimes, how much this one thing held true, no matter what. After so many years and having a kid - _two_ kids - together, Jensen shouldn’t be referring to himself as being ‘in love’, but with Jared the butterflies had never really let up.

"You're a carrier, aren't you?" the woman went on and Jensen's hands stilled where they were fidgeting with the stethoscope.

He looked up like a deer caught in headlights. "I don't... I'm not—"  
   
"It's alright, sweetheart. I have an eye for it. My son was a carrier too. He had that same look about him... same glow."  
   
Thankfully, a young nurse in blue scrubs came through the door before Jensen got around to answering. She was carrying a tray with paper cups, handing out medication to the various patients in the room. Jensen, still shaky from the old woman’s perceptiveness, watched her swallow down the pills dutifully.

“I’ll set up the x-ray and then I’ll be back with you in a second, alright, Mrs. Wilson?” he said in a rush, thankful for the distraction. He gathered up his clipboard and stethoscope, ready to leave the room, when a sudden choking noise froze him in place.

“Mrs. Wilson?” the nurse, Maya, asked, sounding panicked.

Jensen’s mouth dropped open when he saw the old woman gasp and choke on something, wrinkled hands reaching up to her throat.

The pills.

Shit.

Pushing the nurse out of the way, Jensen dropped his clipboard and maneuvered the lady up into a sitting position. “Maya, what did you give her?”

“Morphine,” the young nurse sputtered.

“Fuck,” Jensen cursed, remembering what he’d read in her file earlier. “She’s allergic. Go get Doctor Phillis, quick!”

Mrs. Wilson was bucking up on the bed, coughing and wheezing for breath in a tormented battle between life and death. Her bony hand shot out to grab Jensen’s arm, fingers digging into his flesh as she bestowed him with a desperate look, eyes bulging from her face. Her skin was turning blue and Jensen threw a frantic glance towards the door before he decided that they didn’t have enough time to wait for Dr. Phillis.

He wasn’t allowed to do this. He wasn’t allowed to perform surgery on a patient. They could kick him out of the program for this. But Jensen would be damned before he stood by and did nothing while this woman suffered. He wasn’t just gonna let her die.

“Okay, you can’t quit on me, now, huh, Emma? You didn’t make it this far, only to die from a few lousy pills, did you?” he muttered and snatched a bottle of antiseptic from the hospital stand before coating his hands and her throat with it. Jensen moved his finger about one inch down her neck until he could feel a soft bulge. He didn’t have a scalpel on him, but the guy in the bed next to Mrs. Wilson had a razor on his night stand and Jensen had to make do with that.

Grabbing the razor, he made a half-inch horizontal incision. A trickle of blood oozed from the cut and Jensen wiped it away before pressing his index finger in the incision. He snatched a pen from the table next to him and bit down hard on the plastic, causing it to break. Pulling out the cartridge with his teeth, Jensen inserted the hollow plastic case into the incision, creating an artificial airway. It was crazy - the kind of shit that you only ever saw in movies - but if he waited for Maya to get him real hospital supplies, he might as well have waited for Dr. Phillis to do the job herself.

Mrs. Wilson let out a startled gasp through the tube in her throat and then her chest started rising and falling a bit more evenly. She was breathing again, albeit with some difficulty.

Dr. Phillis came storming into the room just in time to see Jensen’s blood-smeared coat and the tube sticking out of Mrs. Wilson’s airway.

“You performed a tracheostomy?” she asked in a baffled voice.

Jensen felt himself sway with the rush of adrenaline pulsing through his body. “Her airways were swelling shut. I  had to do something.”

“Maya, go and prep the OR for a tube change. I’m gonna need stay sutures on either side of the tracheal opening, a suction catheter, sodium chloride and HME for the tracheostomy bib,” Dr. Phillis instructed quickly and then walked over to inspect Jensen’s handiwork.

She gave him a sideways glance, worry shining in her eyes.

The silence stretched awkwardly between them before Jensen cleared his voice. “I know this is against protocol, but she wouldn’t have made it if I hadn’t stepped in.”

Dr. Phillis nodded, a look of calm determination settling on her features when she met his gaze. “If anyone asks, I was the one performing the procedure, alright?”

Jensen gave her a grateful look and nodded.

“Congrats,” Phillis said with a small smile. She pressed a hand down on his shoulder before she stepped out of the room. “You saved your first life today, Jensen.”

 

 

 

The nurse must have talked because the second Jensen stepped out of the emergency room after his shift finished, Luke and the rest of the interns were standing there looking at him with a mix of wonder and admiration.

“Alright guys, nothing to see back there,” Dr. Phillis said, one hand still on Jensen’s shoulder as if she was trying to protect him from his colleagues’ curious stares. “Thank you all again for coming in on short notice. We’ll see each other next week. 

She released them and it took Jensen a moment to realize that everyone was still staring at him or more specifically at the blood on the sleeve of his lab coat. Jensen considered taking the coat off, but it wouldn’t have mattered. They had already seen it. The damage was done.

Of course, Luke was the first one to step forward. “Is it true?” he asked, eyes sparkling with child-like hero-worship.

Jensen started walking down the hallway towards the locker rooms, Luke following closely on his heel. He sighed. “Don’t know what you heard.”

“Maya said you performed a tracheostomy,” Luke excitedly filled him in. “All by yourself.”

“It’s not all that complex once you get over the whole ‘cutting into someone’s neck thing,” Jensen said softly, shaking his head. “A child could have done it.”

Jensen pulled out the keys to his locker and took off his coat before dumping it in the hamper. He pulled off his sweat-soaked shirt next and then paused when the movement caused the blood to rush to his head, making him dizzy once more. With his arms tangled in his shirt, Jensen overbalanced and knocked back against the locker. A sharp pain shot through his abdomen and Jensen curled forward with a gasp, cradling his stomach with his arm as he doubled over.

“Jensen?” Luke asked, reaching out to touch Jensen’s back. “Are you okay? What is it?”

Jensen’s insides felt like they wanted to turn themselves inside out. Shock rippled through his spine at the intensity of the pain that seared through his body, robbing him of his breath.

“Jensen!” Luke yelled and Jensen would have responded if he wasn’t so busy breathing through the fucking pain. If he wasn’t so busy trying not to black out.

“G-get Dr. Phillis,” Jensen choked out, grabbing Luke’s lower arm and digging his fingers into the younger man’s skin until it turned white. “T-tell her… _gahh - t-tell her I’m—_!”

“Jensen!”

It was the last thing he heard before the world around him turned black.

 

  

 

After he had passed out, the medical personnel wheeled an unconscious Jensen into an exam room and set him down on one of the spare beds. A few minutes passed before the emergency room was packed with people concerned about Jensen’s health.

Dr. Phillis emerged to a room full of eager and concerned interns.

“What’s wrong with him?” Luke asked impatiently, voice high-pitched with worry.

Dr. Phillis ignored him and moved to the hospital bed Jensen was resting on, face ashen and sweat-soaked strands of hair falling into his eyes. She pressed her palm first against his forehead.

“Help me elevate his legs and get me some cold water,” she ordered into the round of wide-eyed trainees. One of them - she forgot the girl’s name - jumped into action. Before she even returned with the water, Jensen’s eyes were fluttering open.

“Jensen?” Dr. Phillis asked, lifting his eyelid to shine a penlight into his green orbs. He flinched, still disoriented and confused. “You feeling any pain?”

She pulled back to look into his eyes and there was something in his gaze that made her pause. Behind the veil of confusion was a flicker of sheer terror as the memories finally returned to him.

Just then, his eyes widened in panic and his hands flew to his stomach.

“Is it okay?” Jensen whispered, tears shining in his eyes and Dr. Phillis looked at him in shock for a moment, the whole team of soon-to-be-doctors going still next to her.

No way.

_No damn way._

That stubborn son of a bitch was a carrier. And as if that wasn’t enough of a revelation, he’d neglected to tell her that he was pregnant.

Taking her silence as an answer, Jensen tried to straighten up in bed, tears quickly welling in his eyes. Her hand shot out to grab his, fingers tangling with his cold, clammy ones as she sought out his gaze. “I need you to stay calm, okay, Jensen?”

“The baby—”

“I will check if everything’s alright, okay?” she said, trying to soothe him.

She took her stethoscope from around her neck and put it on his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Take a deep breath for me, please.” He did as he was being told and Dr. Phillis pressed the smooth steel down on his stomach next. After a minute of listening to the steady but too-quick heartbeat of Jensen’s unborn kid, she pulled back again. “I got a pulse.”

Jensen let his head fall against the pillow, eyes squeezed shut in utter relief. “It’s okay?” he asked, voice betraying him as a tear slid free from the corner of his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“The heartbeat is going a little fast, but what matters is that it’s still there,” Dr. Phillis said, setting her stethoscope away. “Give me your arm.”

She slipped the inflatable cuff of the blood pressure gauge around his arm, strapping it down above his artery. It didn’t quite strike her until then, that Jensen was sitting there half-naked, shivering in the cold, clearly distressed by all the curious looks his fellow colleagues were giving him. His cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red and his eyes flicked around like those of a trapped animal, planning an escape. He was mortified. Of course, he was.

Dr. Phillis sent a glance around the room. “You’re all dismissed for today.”

Slowly but surely, the interns left the room, but Luke didn’t move a muscle, his vacant gaze still fixed on Jensen. Dr. Phillis sighed and pressed the button to tighten the blood pressure monitor around Jensen’s arm. “That includes you, too, Mr. Pikeman. I think I can take it from here."

But Luke wasn’t even paying her attention. He reached out, fingers hovering hesitantly over Jensen’s freckled shoulder before he dropped his hand again, looking torn between worry and confusion. “Do you…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Is there someone I should call?”

It was a good call, she would give him that.

Jensen’s gaze flicked over to Luke. “No.” he croaked out miserably and Dr. Phillis’ worry spiked. Jensen had been withdrawn by nature, a bit shy, even, but she’d never seen him like this. It was strange and a little sad to think that there was no one he wanted by his side in a moment like this.

“When you’re pregnant, you want your blood pressure to be around 120/80,” she explained, looking down at the monitor as she released the machine from around his arm. “Yours is 140/100. We’ll need to monitor that and make sure it stays low.”

Jensen gave her a look that was so damn tired.

“It would have helped to know that you’re pregnant, you know?” she continued, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. “Working in a stressful environment like this isn’t exactly wholesome, Jensen. Having a lot of stress in your life is one of the main causes of miscarriage along with an unhealthy or insufficient diet. Are you eating healthily?”

“Um.” Jensen’s eyes flicking to the ground. He looked miserable and Dr Phillis was starting to think that there was more to this pregnancy than Jensen was letting on. She cast a sideways look at Luke, who was still looking at Jensen with that worried, soulful look, like he’d do anything to take the pain away. It would have been endearing if Jensen had returned the affection, but she could tell that Luke’s feelings weren’t exactly reciprocated.

“Mr. Pikeman, I’m gonna need you to leave the room.”

“But—”

“Now,” she insisted, giving the kid a look that must have scared him. The next moment, Luke was scrambling off the hospital bed and rushing out of the room, sending one last, worried glance at Jensen over his shoulder before he stepped outside.

“Does he stand any chance at all with you?” Dr. Phillis asked, peeking up at Jensen from behind her blonde bangs with a softness in her eyes that conveyed that Jensen could trust her. The kid relaxed visibly after Luke had left the room, leaning back further in the hospital pillow and meeting her gaze with a sorrowful smile.

“Afraid not,” he said, picking at the blanket. “My boyfriend wouldn’t approve.”

Ouch. Luke’s heart was gonna be broken when Jensen dropped that bomb on him. But for now there were other things to worry about.

“Jensen.” She shook her head, scolding him. “Your high blood pressure puts you at risk for complications. I’m gonna release you from duty until further notice, okay?”

Jensen swallowed and said nothing.

She reached out to squeeze his hand in an attempt to comfort him. “I’m assuming you’re somewhere at the end of your second month? You wanna hear the heartbeat before I let you go?”

Jensen nodded, but didn’t make eye contact with her. He was lying quietly on the hospital bed as she put a small amount of gel on the lower part of his abdomen. She placed the wand on his belly and the soft thump-thump of a tiny heartbeat filled the room.

Jensen closed his eyes on the pillow behind her, fingers curling into the hospital blanket.

“Starting to think of any names, yet?” she asked conversationally only to have the smile falter on her lips when she looked back to find more tears glistening on his cheeks. Jensen wiped at them hastily, trying to be strong, but she could see that the kid was hanging on by a thread.

She set the ultrasound wand aside and turned around in her chair, expression softening. “It’s perfectly normal to be scared, Jensen. But I can assure you that—”

“I need you to sign me up for a hysteroscopic septoplasty,” he broke her off, the words coming out in a rushed jumble. It took a moment to catch up with what he was saying.

 _Uterine septum._ That kind of thing could be dangerous.

“Sure,” she said softly, squeezing Jensen’s knee reassuringly. “I’ll check Doctor Clark’s agenda. I’m sure he can fit you in sometime later this week.”

“Okay,” Jensen replied, still shaky and so damn pale. “Y-yeah, okay. I should get going.”

Dr. Phillis opened her mouth in response, a frown forming on her forehead, but Jensen was already struggling to sit up on the hospital bed, a look of determination on his features.

“Jensen, hold on for a second.”

“I need my phone,” he said, clutching at his stomach when another cramp wrecked through his abdomen. He grimaced and took a wobbly step forward, pressing his palm against the hospital walls for support.

“Jensen, I really don’t think you should be walking in the state you’re in. I’m not gonna sign you off like this.”

“Then I’ll sign myself out AMA,” Jensen gave back, voice unwavering despite the lingering sadness in his tone. The haunted look was still written over his features as he staggered out of the room. “I need to make a phone call.”

 

 

 

Jensen’s hands were shaking badly when he pressed his phone to his ear, waiting for Jared to pick up. His knees damn near buckled when the call went to voicemail again.

It had been hours since he’d last tried to reach him.

And still _nothing._

“Jared. Jay, It’s me. I—” Jensen cut himself off again, tears shining in his eyes as he pressed his palm against the outside facade of the clinic walls. “I tried to tell myself that I shouldn’t do this, that I needed to be strong so _you_ can be strong. But I guess this is where I draw the line, okay? I- I give up. I need to hear your voice. I feel like I’m dying every time I get your voicemail because I don’t know if you ran out of battery or if you’re lying somewhere in a puddle of your own blood and I can’t…” Jensen’s voice cracked and he wiped at the tears he had held back all day. “I’m gonna have surgery later this week and if something goes wrong,” he swallowed, unable to finish the thought. “I need you here for this. I don’t think I can go through this alone.”

Biting his lower lip to keep himself from downright begging Jared to come back, Jensen’s breathing turned ragged and his lashes clumped with tears. “I need you, Jay. Please… _please_ come home.”

 

 

 

“Tell me where Ty is, or I’ll blow it out,” Jared hissed, pressing the mouth of his gun against Cricket’s left kneecap with a threatening corkscrew motion. 

The guy looked up at them from behind a veil of tears. He’d lost about a gallon of blood from the beating he’d taken and he was about to lose more if he didn’t start talking soon.

“Jay, stop it,” Katie interrupted, a tone of desperation in her voice that Jared couldn’t ignore, even if he wanted to. “He doesn’t know anything, _please._ ”

“Get out,” Jared ordered in a cold, detached voice.

Katie’s ears perked up, but she hesitated to fulfill the order.

“I said,” Jared slowly repeated, twisting around to shoot her a look. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Jared, please,” Katie begged, suddenly desperate. She tugged on his arm - the one that was still pointing a loaded firearm at one of the Reapers, but Jared remained undeterred. He wasn’t going to stop until Ty was dead. This whole thing needed to fucking end so they could all go back to normal. So none of the people he loved could ever get hurt like Rich did.

“I SAID GO!” Gritting his teeth, he shoved Katie away, using too much force and causing her to stumble. She hit the nearby brick wall with a heavy thud, letting out a soft gasp of pain as her elbow twisted, trying to catch her fall. She quickly regained her footing, giving him that stunned, hurt look that made feel about two inches tall.

Breathing heavily, Jared gave a frustrated kick to the graffiti-sprayed wall of the shady alleyway. The guy on the ground, barely conscious at this point, still had enough energy left to flinch in horror and try to scramble away from Jared’s unlaced biker boots. Letting go of his blind rage, Jared cursed and slammed the butt of his gun down hard on the guy’s head, knocking him out.

The guy slumped like a bag of potatoes and Jared put the safety back on his gun.

He stowed the Taurus in the back of his jeans and whirled around to bestow Katie with a dark, narrow-eyed scowl. “What the fuck was that? This isn’t a fucking cop show where we play good and bad cop!” he hissed viciously. “You don’t get to defy me in front of the enemy!”

“ _Defy_ you?” Katie repeated incredulously. "You're not acting like yourself, Jared!"

Jared pointed a finger at her chest and it felt like he had her at gunpoint. “I’m the one calling the fucking shots. So you either do what I tell you or you get the fuck out of my way. _Understood?_ ”

Katie just looked at Jared with a tearful expression on her face. She cradled her gimp hand close to her chest.

“Jay.” She was pleading with him now, desperation thick in her voice as she bestowed him with a tearful look. “Jay. Let it go, okay? This won’t bring Rich back. You _know_ it won’t.”

Shoulders slumping, Jared took a step back and washed a tattooed hand over his haggard expression. “Maybe not,” he said. “But if it’s between their lives and ours…”

He left the beat-up bastard lying unconscious on the blood-flecked asphalt as he turned around and walked back toward his motorcycle.

 

 

 

When Steve laid eyes on Katie, he instantly knew that something was wrong.

She looked hurt, her eyes filled with tears and she was cradling her elbow to her chest in a way that was unnatural. “Hey,” he said with a frown on his face, reaching out to take a look at her skinny arm, gently turning it around in his own palms. “What happened? Am I gonna have to kick Jay’s ass for not taking better care of you?”

Katie pulled her arm back again, averting her gaze and that was when it hit him.

Steve’s movements stilled and his heart slowed down in his chest. “Katie?” he asked because they were only supposed to go on a fucking supply run, Jared had promised him that he wouldn’t go after any more of these assholes today. He’d promised not to get Katie involved in any of this.

“Katie,” Steve growled, waiting for her tear-filled gaze to meet his own. “What happened?”

She struggled to get the words out. “We met one of Ty’s goons on the way to the store. Jared pulled off on the side of the road and beat him within an inch of his life. He dragged him into an alleyway and asked him where Ty was. And threatened to...to shoot his kneecap out.”

“Fuck,” Steve cursed, angry at himself for letting Jared drive off with Katie when he was in this state. “Did he do this to you?”

Katie bit her lower lip and it was all the fucking answer Steve needed.

Cursing loudly, Steve yanked his jacket from the back of the shop seat and started stomping towards the door. Katie ran after him, trying to pull him back. “He didn’t mean it, Steve. Steve? Don’t blow this out of proportion, okay?”

Steve shook her off, expression dead serious as he saddled his Ducati and fired up the engine.

“STEVE!” Katie yelled after him as he kicked back the stand and hit the gas.

 

 

 

Jared was at a gas station, filling up his tank when he heard the familiar rumble of Steve’s Ducati as his friend pulled up in the driveway. In hindsight, he really should have seen this coming.

Steve walked toward Jared with all the grace and fury of a steamroller and when he launched himself at Jared, punching him square in the fucking face, Jared stumbled back a few steps, one knee hitting the asphalt as he went down. Mouth hanging open in shock, Jared lifted a shaky hand to his throbbing chin as trickly of blood trickled to the ground.

“You touch her again and I’ll kill you,” Steve snarled and Jared spat out a glob of blood before he picked himself up from the ground again, wiping at his face with the back of his hand.

“You done?” Jared demanded in a cold voice, raising an eyebrow at Steve.

“How’d you feel if I let loose on Jensen, huh?” Steve challenged and something in Jared’s stomach tightened with rage at the mere suggestion. He curled his fingers into fists and shot Steve a look that told him exactly what he’d do to anyone who hurt Jensen.

“It was an accident,” Jared returned with a glare. “She fell against the damn wall.”

“ _No._ You dragged her off to be part of your fucking killing spree and when she tried to get you to come back to your senses, you _shoved_ her into a damn wall!” Steve yelled, loud enough for a few bystanders to raise their heads. “She worships the ground you walk on, man! How could you do that to her?”

“I’m trying to bring this fucking war to an end, Steve!” Jared yelled, face flushed with anger and eyes flashing. “Can’t you fucking see that I’m trying to end this? If we find Ty, we can kill him and get this whole thing to stop. We can end the war and go back to normal!”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Steve asked. “Jared, the only place you can go to after killing someone is prison. And that’s exactly what you got waiting for you if you don’t reign it the fuck in!”

“I don’t care,” Jared spat out and Steve looked at him incredulously.

“What do you mean, you don’t care?” he asked. “What about Jensen? And Kelly? You ever think about them in all of this? You wanna leave Jen to raise two kids on his own?”

“If it keeps them alive and breathing? Hell yeah, I will.”

“Jared—”

“I don’t want them to end up like Rich, okay?” Jared admitted in a raw, broken voice, all the anger suddenly falling off of him and getting replaced by something else. “All I can see when I close my eyes is what they’ve done to Rich. You didn’t see it man. You didn’t see what they did to him. Do you have any idea what they’re capable of? What they’re gonna do to Gen, or Chris or Katie if they ever get their hands on ‘em?”

Jared’s voice was wavering with a deep-root terror and suddenly Steve’s anger seemed to vanish, his expression softening. “Jay…”

“Rich was a friend, but you guys are my _family._ If I ever saw any of you hurt like that?” Jared shook his head. “I would never be able to forgive myself for it. So I _need_ to stop these sons of bitches before they get another shot at us. And I’m going to do it with or without your help.”

“ _Jay_ ,” Steve sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. His anger was suddenly gone, just as quickly as it had come because this right there - was the Jared they all knew and loved. The one Steve would take a bullet for. The self-sacrificial idiot with the big heart. “Nobody says you’ll have to go through this alone. But you can’t just run around like a loose cannon. It’s only gonna get you killed and we _need_ you, man.”

Jared hung his head before giving a soft nod and carding a hand through his thick hair. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, shaking his head as he stared at a spot somewhere above Steve’s shoulder, unable to look his friend in the eyes.

“You know we got your back, man,” Steve continued softly. “No matter what.”

Jared closed his eyes as the words washed through him.

“But you gotta take things one step at a time,” Steve went on carefully, resting a palm on Jared’s shoulder and squeezing the tense muscle there.

Jared nodded, something hard and uncomfortable slowly unfurling in his chest. “You’re right. We need a plan.”

 

 

 

By the time Jensen arrived at Yale, he felt physically and emotionally drained.

He looked a mess and all he wanted was to go home to take a hot shower and wash all the grime and sweat from his body. There was no way he was able to hold a lecture in the state he was in and come to think of it, he’d have to withdraw from the exhibit as well. Fuller wasn’t going to be happy if he had to find a replacement on such short notice, but after the day he’d just had, Jensen knew he just couldn’t keep going.

He trudged up to the office with an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, a growing tension that only grew stronger with each step he took.

Knocking on the heavy oak door of Fuller’s office, Jensen’s eyes widened when the Dean of the faculty opened up just a second later, wearing that same glib smile on his face that never failed to make Jensen uncomfortable. “Jensen. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jensen sent a cursory look around, finding that the secretary and all the other faculty members were already gone. He hadn’t kept track of time, but the sun had already gone down and the building was relatively vacated. “Evening, Sir. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“Of course.” Fuller pulled the door open with a creak, winking him inside and Jensen followed him to the center of the room before sitting down on the edge of the leather chair. Fuller took a seat across from him, folding his hands in his lap all business-like. “What can I do for you?”

“I won’t be able to attend the art exhibit,” Jensen explained, not wanting to cut around the bush. He watched Fuller’s expression closely, searching it for a reaction, but the man just kept smiling at him, seemingly unbothered by the revelation. It was disturbing to say the least. “I’m eight weeks pregnant and I… I need to focus on my health right now. I know you’ve worked hard to make this possible and I’m sorry for the inconveniences I may have caused you but—”

“You’re _pregnant_?” Fuller repeated incredulously, the words having only now caught up with him.

“I am,” Jensen confirmed with a duck of his head. There was no more denying it, no more delaying the inevitable. Fuller would have found out sooner or later and Jensen would rather tell the man personally than to have him hear it through the grapevine.

Something shifted in Fuller’s expression when the realization finally sank in. “And I assume it’s from that worthless scum you consider your boyfriend?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jensen stammered, not trusting his own ears because Fuller might have shown open dislike towards his boyfriend before, but never in such an open manner. They were at work. At a prime university, for fuck’s sake. This guy couldn’t just fucking say shit like that and get away with it. “What did you just say to me?”

“Oh please,” Fuller snarled and suddenly all the fake-smiles and slimy friendliness fell off of him like an armor he was too tired of wearing. Instead, his features turned into a hateful sneer. “How about we drop the feigned formalities and get down to business? I did a little research on your boyfriend and my findings were… quite interesting, to say the least.”

Jensen’s heart sank with dread when Fuller pulled a large file with documents from his cabinet and dropped it on the table top with a threatening thud. He flipped it open and Jensen couldn’t believe his eyes when he stared at the photos that rested on top of the paperwork. They were pictures of the crime scene, back at the warehouse. Of the two thugs they killed. One stabbed to death with the rusty metal chair leg - courtesy of Jensen’s hands. One beaten into a bloody pulp, his face a gory mess of mangled flesh and blood - courtesy of Jared’s.

Jensen’s stomach turned and he forcibly looked away, screwing his eyes shut as a whole wave of memories slammed into him with the force of a plow train.

“Where did you get these?” he asked, voice trembling.

“I have my sources,” Fuller answered glibly, that same old slimy grin on his face as he flicked through the pages. “You never mentioned this little hiccup with the authorities anywhere in your CV, Jensen. You know it might have made a difference in the hiring process, knowing you allegedly killed a guy with a chunk of metal.”

“I never—”

“You were never _convicted_ , that’s right. How convenient that the guy who confessed both these murders just so happens to be your boyfriend’s adoptive father, am I right?”

Jensen shook his head in denial. “It wasn’t—”

“You’re not the only one with a Ph.D., Jensen,” Fuller growled and slammed the file back shut. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Jensen’s throat dried up and he couldn’t fucking breathe, heart racing incredibly fast in his chest. The urge to get up and run and never look back had never been stronger in his whole life. He could already tell, even now, what Fuller wanted - what he was building up to and every fiber of him was revolted at the thought.

“It would have been a waste of potential to throw you into a prison cell,” Fuller continued. “Though you _do_ seem to enjoy spreading your legs for convicted felons.”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Jensen snapped, jumping out of the chair and turning towards the door, fully intending on _running_ and never looking back.

“Sit your ass back down,” the Dean ordered in a threateningly low tone, making Jensen freeze.

Fuller got up from his chair and pointed at the file. “I got enough eyebrow-raising evidence in here to send this case back to the court for retrial and I got enough people who owe me a favor to send your good-for-nothing crook of a boyfriend to prison with a life sentence this time.”

Dread crept over Jensen like an icy chill, numbing his brain, his every thought. In this frozen state his mind only offered him one thought. “You’re bluffing.”

“You willing to risk it?” Fuller rounded the workstation and Jensen took a step back on instinct, feeling like an animal herded into a truck for the slaughterhouse.

Fuller towered over him as he crept close, wide shoulders and eyes near back with glee as he backed Jensen up against the wall, reaching out to run his fat fingers up Jensen’s chest and to the side of his neck. He was now as revolting as he should be, finally reflecting the man within. This cockroach of a man who was cornering his own employees, spewing lies and vileness and blackmailing them into sexual favors.

“Think about it… a guy like him, troublemaker that he is, with that big mouth of his. How long do you think it would take for some big fish mobster to shank him in the prison yard? Or better yet, how long until someone takes a certain liking to that tattooed skin, that muscled body?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jensen hissed. His stomach was full of lead, his feet set in concrete as Fuller’s fingers crawled up his skin inch by fucking inch.

“It doesn’t have to be that way, of course,” Fuller grinned, running his eyes slowly up Jensen’s body. “Think about your children. You wouldn’t want for them to grow up without their father, would you? Or god forbid, without both their parents.”

“What do you want?” Jensen bit out through gritted teeth.

“Well,” Fuller started. “I’m sure you haven’t been oblivious to the fact that you’ve kindled a certain interest in me, Jensen. A fire, one might even say. Unfortunately, you haven’t exactly returned my affection. In fact, you’ve been pretty damn’ unapproachable.”

Jensen felt as though lead was coursing through his veins instead of blood. His kept his gaze carefully averted because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold Fuller’s eyes without doing something incredibly stupid like punching the guy in his face.

“But I have a feeling that you’ll be a bit more cooperative, now that we’re such jolly-good pals, won’t you, Jensen?” Fuller asked, snatching Jensen’s chin and forcefully lifting it so that Jensen’s eyes met his own pig-like ones. His grin was widening when he caught the fear in Jensen’s eyes, the absolute revulsion in them. “How about we start over again, huh? Go back to square one?”

“You’re married,” Jensen hissed in a last attempt to appeal to the Dean’s conscience. “Think about your wife and kid- think about your job. If I _talk,_ you will lose everything. All of it.”

“I’m a highly appreciated member of this faculty with more than twenty years of experience,” Fuller said smugly. “And you have a criminal record for homicide and a convicted outlaw motorcycle gang leader as a boyfriend. Take your pick, Jensen. Whichever do you think is the more trustworthy source, here?”

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut when Fuller reached around his waist to lock the door of the office with an audible snap. He flinched when the lock fell into place. “Now, as much as I’m enjoying this conversation, I think it’s time we moved on to the more _pleasurable_ part of the evening.”

Fuller brushed his hand against the side of Jensen’s face, grazing his neck and causing him to shiver with revulsion. He wanted nothing more but to run, to turn and never look back, but Fuller might actually pull through with his threat and Jensen couldn’t risk losing Jared over his own pride.

Closing his eyes, Jensen tried to distance himself completely from the situation. _‘Whatever he’s gonna do, it will be over soon. You’re doing it for Jay and Kelly.... for the baby.’_

"I think you haven't quite understood how this is going to work," Fuller said, a threatening edge to his voice. "See, if I wanted for someone to be as responsive as a goddamn brick wall, I'd go home to be with my wife."

"I'll let you do whatever you fucking want," Jensen hissed, tears glistening in his eyes as he directed a glare at the Dean. "But there's no way in hell you can make me enjoy it."

Fuller smirked, taking a predatory step forward. Jensen stumbled back until his back hit the wall and then it was over, no room for escape. He was trapped and Fuller knew it. "You will do this like your life depends on it or the next time your son will get to see your baby daddy will be on his death row visit. Now let's try this again, shall we?”

Jensen fixed Fuller with every bit of hatred he could muster, every fiber of his body revolting at the thought of letting this bastard anywhere near him, let alone exchange something as intimate as a kiss. He glared at him with enough contempt to pierce a hole in him, but Fuller wasn't fazed.

Taking Jensen's tormented silence for an answer, he moved in again, this time with more force. Grabbing him by the waist, Fuller's lips met his own as he pushed Jensen back against the wall hard enough to make him gasp. Unfortunately, that was all the opening Fuller needed to force his tongue into his mouth, one callous hand coming up to tangle in Jensen's curls to tug on the strands. He twisted them, causing Jensen's eyes to water and Jensen's mind was spinning, heart racing as he tried so desperately to let it happen, to keep himself compliant, even when his whole body was itching to fight - even when his mind screamed at him to bite that motherfucker's tongue off. Somehow Fuller's hands found their way to Jensen's ass and Jensen couldn't do it. He couldn't.

Shoving Fuller off of him, Jensen was gasping, eyes full of tears as he glared at the older man.

Never before had he felt so much revulsion, hatred and disgust for anyone in his life before. Not for Matt, not for Lucian. Not for any of those fuckers in that goddamn warehouse. Jensen hadn't kissed anyone other than Jared in years and he had never felt more disgusted, more violated than he did now, having the feel of Fuller's lips burned into his memory, the taste of that fucker on his tongue. He couldn't bear the thought of even just one more second of that guy's hands anywhere on his body, didn't want to even imagine what else Fuller had planned for him - how far he was planning to go.

When he was convinced that he was in control of his own emotions again, Jensen took in a shuddering breath and turned toward the door, shaky hand on the doorknob. “Jared would take the death row over me doing _this_.”

Fuller chuckled, honest-to-god chuckled, as though all of this was just a huge joke to him.

Jensen unlocked the office door and opened it, but hesitated when he heard movement from back at the table, a dial tone and then a muffled, metallic voice coming through the speaker of a phone.

"Detective Mahone," Fuller said, still breathing heavily and sounding angry. "Remember the South Boston warehouse case we talked about last night? Yeah, right. I think you might be onto something with this Padalecki guy. We should definitely dig the file back up and--"

Before Jensen had made the conscious decision to move, before he even had the chance to think or breathe or back down again, he had crossed the office in two quick strides, slamming his palm down hard on the phone's hook mechanism and ending the call.

He looked at Fuller with piercing eyes, his gaze intense behind a veil of tears.

Maybe Jared would rather die, rather than to know that Jensen let that fucker anywhere near him. But Jensen didn’t. He couldn’t condemn Jared to live a life in prison. And he couldn't let his own pride be the reason why his kids grew up without a father.

Fuller watched him with a satisfied smirk on his lips before lowering the receiver.

"Okay," Jensen ground out and it must have been the hardest thing he had ever agreed to. But if it was a choice between Jared's life and well, _anything_ else, it wasn't a choice at all.

Rounding the table, every step felt like his legs were heavy and stiff. Jensen's hands were shaking when he lifted them to cup the side of Fuller's face. He tried not to think about anything, to clear his mind of every thought and to dull his heart to a mere pulse as he leaned in for a kiss. It took a second of stunned silence before Fuller reacted and when he did, Jensen felt like a part of him was being crushed to death. It felt like a goddamn eternity, a never-ending torment that - when it finally ended - left him flushed and winded, tears glistening in his eyes as he stumbled back and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Fuller patted his cheek like a dog. "See, now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Jensen had just enough energy left to fix Fuller with a murderous stare. "Go fuck yourself."

"Why would I do that now that I have you?" Fuller grinned and Jensen felt like throwing up right in the middle of the goddamn office floor. His whole stomach turned at the words. “Same time and date, tomorrow. Oh, and Jensen?”

Jensen barely managed to look up at the man from behind his tear-filled vision.

“I don’t think I have to point out what happens if you breathe a word about this to anyone, do I?”

Jensen swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. “No.”

“No, Sir,” Fuller insisted and burning rage hissed through Jensen’s body like deathly poison, fury sweeping off of him in ferocious waves.

Jaw locked and teeth grinding, Jensen held Fuller’s stare with enough contempt to set the room on fire. All these months, every goddamn time Jensen had tried to stay formal, Fuller had shot him down with fake friendliness, offering to be on a first name basis. And now… now he suddenly got a hard-on for formality. Figures the piece of shit saved his kinks for last.

“ _No, sir_ ,” Jensen bit out and he made sure to make it sound every bit like the ‘FUCK YOU’ that it was really was.

Jensen slammed the door to the office closed behind himself and then fell back against the wood, sliding down the smooth surface as his vision clouded.

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, please don't hate me? *ducks in a corner* I promise I won't let Jensen get hurt too badly. Is anyone up for a reunion between the boys??? I hope you guys are still out there, somewhere, reading and enjoying this. If you are, please take a moment to share your thoughts with me! :) Thank you all for sticking with me! As always, love and thanks go out to my betas, Kimenem and ficluv82 for their amazing help.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings* for graphic violence, graphic descriptions of abuse, emotional blackmail, Non-con elements/attempted rape, attempted sexual abuse, use of guns, bad language.

 

 **Open Highway**  
**Chapter 11**  
  
Jensen didn’t go home straight away after his encounter with Fuller. Instead, he drove his car to the old cabin Jared and he used for shooting practice.  
  
He could feel the darkness pressing down, suffocating him with each step as he made his way through the thick maze of woodland. The sparsely packed trees loomed threateningly above but remained still in the icy wind that flowed around him. Pale moonlight trickled through the branches and Jensen had to squint to see the uncertain path to the cabin.

His limbs felt like they were not his own, his movements slow and ungraceful, every thought circulating back to that office, to the way Fuller had smelled and felt and tasted. Jensen wanted nothing more than to shower and it was so damn clichéd. He couldn’t help but feel dirty inside and out. He wanted to sink to the tiled shower floor until his lips turned blue and there was nothing left, no evidence of what had been done to him. He couldn’t be anywhere near his son like this, didn’t want to taint Kelly with the mark Fuller had left on him.  
  
When Jensen arrived at the clearing, his gaze zeroed in on that half-rotten fence about ten feet away from him where a line of battered-looking cans sat on the wooden posts waiting to be shot off.  
  
Jensen had taken the small Glock that Jared insisted on keeping in the glove department of their Camaro. His fingers tightened around the shiny metal and a second later he was aiming for the first can and pulling the trigger. His shot echoed through the woods. The bullet hit the can square in the middle. He aimed for the next one and missed, following it by a third shot, then a fourth. Before he knew it, he was emptying his whole damn clip into the fence, the cans, the trees, anything within reach until there was nothing left to shoot.

Jensen didn’t realize he was screaming until he felt his voice scalding his throat, until his knees hit the earth with a dull thud until his vision blurred and the gun dropped from his shaking hands. His scream teetered off as he stared at the discarded weapon through a veil of misery.  
  
Jensen hated guns. He had always hated them ever since his father had taken him on hunting trips when he was a teenager, pointing at wide-eyed deer and fluffy rabbits and encouraging Jensen to gun them down because that’s what 'real men' were meant to do.  
  
Ten years later and Jensen was sleeping with a ‘45 under his pillow. He was driving with a spare gun in his glove department. He could shoot a fucking fly at a hundred yards and YET he couldn’t keep a perverted, sicko motherfucker from sticking his tongue down his throat.

‘Everyone breaks under the right kind of pressure,’ Jensen thought bitterly to himself.

The statement had never rung truer in his life.

All the dry practice he’d gone through, every self-defense lesson Jared had insisted on, it was all for nothing.

Jensen knew ten different ways to snap Fuller’s neck and yet he had let the guy do whatever he wanted. He had stood still as the fucker had violated him. Even worse, he had instigated it, had pretended to be okay with it, even when every fiber of him had screamed for the torment to end.  
  
Jared would be so disappointed.

Scratch that. He’d be _disgusted._  
  
Pulling himself up on his feet and wiping the salty mess from his face, Jensen marched inside the cabin and yanked open a small wooden cabinet. He found the crinkled pack of Marlboro exactly where they’d stashed it, damp from condensation but still whole.

Jensen’s hands were shaking as he fumbled with the pack, pulling one of the cigarettes and staring at it long and hard. His eyes were filled, his vision blurring as he lifted the cigarette to his lips and lit it up.  
  
He took one drag. One damn drag.

And then his expression crumpled, lips twisting with guilt and disgust. He stormed out of the cabin, tossing the cigarette as far away from himself as humanly possible. He watched it fall into the bushes a few feet across the clearing, smoke still curling in the air from between the leaves as he coughed and spat a glob of saliva to the ground before his feet, trying to expel whatever little nicotine had made it past his airways and into his lungs.

His throat stung, his ears were filled with white noise.

He was shaking from the build of emotion, and he locked it all down as hard and fast as he could.

‘Not now. Not now. No time for this shit.’  
  
‘You need to keep it together.’  
  
‘You need to—’  
  
“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” Jensen beckoned, loud enough for the birds to leave the tree crowns in a frantic flutter of wings all around him.

The scream was torn from his lungs, sucking all the energy right out of him and leaving him winded as he ran both his hands through his hair and tugged.

 

 

The next morning came way too soon.  
  
Chris could tell that something was up with Jensen the second he stepped into the kitchen to see the younger man hunched over a newspaper in his bathrobe.

“Morning sunshine,” Chris commented drily, scratching his scruff as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “You got home late last night.”  
  
From his vantage point, Chris noticed the dark shadows beneath Jensen’s eyes. The kid’s shower-wet hair was plastered to his forehead, his freckles standing out in stark contrast to his chalk-like complexion. His lips were tugged down into a frown and he glared at the newspaper in front of him as though he had a personal vendetta against it.  
  
“You okay?” Chris frowned. “Something happen at work?”  
  
“I—” Jensen licked his lips. “I was helping out in the ER at the clinic.”  
  
Chris raised an eyebrow at him. “And?”  
  
Jensen curled his lips into his mouth and paused before looking up. “And I fainted.”  
  
“You what?” Chris sputtered, spitting his coffee back in his cup.  
  
Jensen sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Look. I’m gonna have surgery by the end of the week, so you can save yourself the lecture.”  
  
“You’re an idiot,” Chris growled, cutting Jensen a scolding look as he dropped his spoiled mug of coffee in the sink. “You could’ve lost that kid, man. What the hell? Why do you insist on working yourself into a frenzy when—”  
  
A sharp rap on the door had them both dropping silent. Chris exchanged a look with Jensen, cursing under his breath when he realized he had left his gun upstairs. Jensen got up from his chair, moving toward the door, but Chris splayed a palm against his friend’s chest, holding him back in a soccer-mom move.  
  
Even tired-looking and worn-out from exhaustion, Jensen shot him a bitch-face. “It’s probably just the mailman.”  
  
“I’ll get it,” Chris decided, not giving Jensen a say in the matter. “Just don’t faint again, okay princess?”

Honestly, with the way Jensen looked today, it was a legitimate concern.

Jensen seemed to have enough energy left to raise his middle finger. Chris ignored him and moved over to the door, pulling it open just far enough to get a look at their uninvited guest.  
  
It wasn’t the mailman.  
  
Standing in that doorway at seven in the morning was Jack, hands buried in his jeans like a fucking school kid who was called to the principal's office.  
  
Chris’ eyes narrowed in instant dismay. He was still in his fucking boxers, no gun anywhere within reach and Jensen was looking more fragile than Chris had ever seen him before. No fucking way was that fucker going anywhere near Jensen when he was like this.  
  
“Fuck off,” Chris said, trying to shut the door, when Jack’s boots appeared in the doorway, blocking the path.  
  
“And here I was, thinking we were friends,” Jack said with a tight smile.

“Think again.” Chris snorted, about to break the guy’s toes, when a small voice from behind him caused Chris to close his eyes in defeat.  
  
“Uncle Chris?” Kelly asked, traipsing up to Chris’ side with his pajamas still on and a half-finished drawing of a dinosaur in his hands. He was dragging the crinkled piece of crayon-covered paper behind himself as he walked up to the doorway, half-lidded eyes curiously peeking up at Jack from behind a mop of gold-brown curls as he rubbed his eyes.  
  
Before Chris could react, Jensen was there to swoop Kelly into his arms. “Morning munchkin,” Jensen greeted, pressing a kiss to the crown of Kelly’s head as he carried the sleepy toddler back toward the kitchen. “Ready for breakfast?”  
  
The brief moment of distraction was all it took for Jack to shove his way into the house. “You know, I wouldn’t say no to breakfast. Now that we decided to give our friendship a real chance, and all.”  
  
“Yeah, well. Nobody invited you, chuckles,” Chris growled.  
  
“Chris,” Jensen sighed, sitting Kelly down on the counter and opening the fridge to take out a carton of eggs. “It’s alright. Just help me in the kitchen, please?”  
  
“Right, _Chris_.” Jack plopped down in one of the chairs at the dinner table. “Be a dear and make me some fresh coffee, while you’re at it, will you?”  
  
Chris gritted his teeth and made a threatening move forward. “You little—”

“ _Don’t_.” Jensen was suddenly right there, blocking his path as he looked up at Chris with imploring eyes.

Some of the anger drained from Chris immediately at the look in Jensen’s gaze.

Up close, Jensen looked even more miserable than before. His eyes were puffy and swollen, which could only mean he had been crying. Chris didn’t know whether it was nerves or what, but he could tell that the kid was hanging on by a thread. The last thing Jensen probably needed right now was for Chris to make a scene.  
  
Chris uncurled his fingers and let go of the tight ball of fury in his chest. “Alright,” he bit out. He shot Jack a warning glare before reverting his attention to the sleepy four-year-old that sat on the kitchen counter. “What’s it gonna be, little man? Eggs and toast?”  
  
“Try Lucky Charms,” Jack suggested, plucking a handful of grapes from the fruit bowl. He flicked his fingers and sent a grape flying through the air before catching it with his mouth. “I used to love them as a kid.”  
  
Kelly peeked curiously over at Jack. “I wanna have Lucky Chawms, papa. Can I?”  
  
Jensen seemed to battle the urge to shoot Kelly down, but in the end, his exhaustion won him over. He carried the toddler over to the high chair at the dinner table opposite to Jack and Kelly immediately went for the grapes, trying to copy Jack’s trick.  
  
Chris was very much aware of the fact that Jensen wasn’t letting Kelly out of his sight throughout the whole time they busied themselves making breakfast. Jensen kept glancing over at the table as if he half expected Jack to grab Kelly and make a run for it, but all the man did, was trying to teach the four-year-old how to catch the fruit without using his hands.

Much to the four-year-old’s amusement.  
  
By the time Chris and Jensen settled down at the table next to them, the four-year-old had given his dinosaur drawing to Jack with a gap-toothed grin on his face and a hero-worship twinkle in his eyes. “This is for you! It’s a Stac-chorausus.”

“Why thanks, kiddo,” Jack grinned, inspecting the drawing carefully. “Styracosaurus’ one of my favorites, you know? Apart from the T-Rex, of course.”

Kelly beamed up at the guy as though he’d hung the moon and Chris had never hated Jack more. His irrational burst of jealousy was short-lived when Jack broke the silence.  
  
“You don’t look so hot, Jenny,” Jack commented, giving Jensen a wary once-over. Chris didn’t even bother to tell the guy off because he was right. Jensen looked like shit. “Did you go on a bender last night?”  
  
“Just eat your food and shut up, okay?” Jensen murmured.

While Chris internally cheered Jensen on for the grumpy comeback, he couldn’t quite help worrying even more at the younger man’s deflective response. Worry wasn’t so much gnawing at him as it was tearing him apart with its sharp teeth.  
  
“You freaking out over the exhibit?” Chris probed gently, his frown deepening when he saw Jensen shoving his food around on the plate without taking one bite.  
  
“No, I…” Jensen’s voice was shaking. He broke himself off, cleared his voice and then seemed to gather his bearings. “I’m not feeling so well. Must be hormones.”  
  
Chris gave him a skeptical look but didn’t call him out on his bluff. “Maybe you should call your boss and tell him you need to postpone the exhibit to another time. What’s his name? Foreman? Finley?”  
  
Jensen, who was just taking a sip from his OJ, sputtered and spat a whole mouthful of juice across the table.  
  
“Shit.” Chris was out of his seat in a second, wiping at the table with a napkin while Jensen watched him with a wide-eyed expression on his face. He looked like a deer in headlights.  
  
“Easy,” Chris soothed, cupping the younger man’s neck. “Hey. Jensen… you okay?”  
  
Jensen’s behavior was freaking Chris out. Massively.

He kind of wished Jared was here to fix this.  
  
“I’m fine.” Jensen shot out of his seat and shoved past Chris before his friend could ask more questions. “Chris, can you drop Kel off at preschool? Jack, you need to leave,” he instructed, not really looking at either of them as he stumbled back, in the direction of the staircase. “I need to get ready for work.”  
  
Chris watched him go with a sickening sense of dread in his stomach.  
  
Something had definitely happened last night.

 

 

Their new stakeout was a warehouse, which didn’t exactly help to lift Jared’s mood.

Too many dark memories were connected to the corrugated iron roof, the dust- and dirt-covered sacks of grain ready for distribution. Memories of blood and tears and Russian Roulette. If Jared closed his eyes, he could smell the coppery scent of blood and see Jensen at the table across from him, face bruised as tears streamed down his cheeks, gun in his shaking hands as he pulled the trigger. Jared forced the memories aside with a shudder.

It was raining outside, raindrops hitting the rooftop like all the percussionists in the world had got together for a jam session on the roof.

Jared had barely slept after what had happened the night before, thoughts circulating back to the things he’d done, to the blood that was quite literally coating his hands.

How was he supposed to face Jensen after the things he’d done? How was he ever going to go back to normal after this?

Sighing, Jared got up from where he’d set up a small camp for the night, joints cracking as he unfolded his long limbs and stretched his arms above his head. As soon as he pushed the sheets off his body, he felt the warmth of sleep begin to slip away. The morning air was cold and Jared snatched one of his discarded hoodies off the ground as he rolled to his feet, pulling it over his head. The scent of rain hung heavy in the air as the pale dawn sun peeked through the milk-glass windows and Jared found himself craving a cup of hot coffee.

Katie was sitting across the warehouse, her legs propped up on the tabletop as she looked down at her phone in avid concentration. Jared grabbed one of the half-finished water bottles from the table and unscrewed the cap as he walked up to her.

From the looks of it, she was checking out tattoo motifs on Pinterest. Jared loomed over her, allowing his shadow to give him away as he leaned down to glance at the designs.

“Wolves, huh?” he asked, voice raspy from sleep.

They were alone in the warehouse and Jared could only assume that Chad, Genevieve, and Steve had taken their bikes out for a supply run. It was safer to do them in the crack of dawn. Fewer chances to run into trouble, that way.

Katie glanced up at him dismissively. “Yep.”

No details, no juvenile cheerfulness, and argumentation of why Katie’s tattoo artist was the best one in the whole wide world and could totally draft her a killer wolf tat. Not even a sexual innuendo. As far as Katie went, that was as ‘out of character’ as it got.

Jared sighed. “Don’t get a wolf.”

“Why not?” Katie asked. “Are wolves reserved for the ‘cool kids’, only?”

Jared shrugged and leaned against the edge of the table. “They are widely misunderstood. People think they are vicious, bloodthirsty animals who attack without provocation.”

Katie’s eyes flicked up to the tattoo on Jared’s neck. The black ink was crawling up his neck like poison ivy, the teeth of the wolf glinting threateningly in the moonlight that shone around. The tattoo was as artistic as menacing.

Katie locked the screen of her phone and set it aside before glancing up to meet his eyes.

“People are dumb if they really think that,” she said. “As a matter of fact, wolves are probably the most social animals out there. They go out of their way trying to avoid fights. But they’ll be damned if they don’t try to stave off an attacker who’s threatening their tribe. They’re rarely the ones to initiate combat, but they will fight to the death for their pack.”

Jared’s throat throbbed with a dull ache.

“If you say so,” he said low under his breath. He reached out to cover the back of her hand with his own, threading their fingers together lightly.

Katie turned her hand around in his so that their palms were slotted together properly. She squeezed his tattooed hand, causing him to look up into her eyes, so full of love and forgiveness that it damn near killed him to look at her.

“You’re the Alpha, Jay,” she whispered. “A pack can’t survive without its Alpha.”

Jared’s throat tightened even further. He didn’t say anything, just held her hand in his own, letting the apology pass in silence between them.

After a long moment, Jared cleared his throat and gently pulled his hand out of hers.

“You know that wolves mate for life, right?” Katie ventured on. There was a happy mischief in Katie’s eyes that Jared hadn’t realized he’d been missing and Jared suddenly had a hard time fighting off the smile that crept onto his features. “They have this really cool sex-thing where they’re basically stuck together for—”

“I get it.” Jared pulled a face. “Enough with the metaphors.”

“Jared,” Katie grew serious again. “Jensen’s your beta wolf, okay? He’s your _everything_ and he needs you more than ever. You can’t NOT go to his exhibit, okay?”

Jared frowned, already shaking his head in denial. “Katie, I _can’t_.”

“Yes, you can. You have to!”

“You don’t understand,” Jared growled. “After what I’ve done yesterday, there’s no way Ty’s not gonna retaliate. And if I’m not here—”

“If you’re not here, then we’ll find a way to deal with it on our own,” Katie returned. “What’s this really about, Jay? Cause you damn well know we don’t need a chaperone.”

Jared was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling quickly as he clenched and unclenched his fists. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“I’m not the same guy I was back in New Haven,” Jared eventually said. “What if Jensen decides that he can’t go on like this? That he’d be better off raising our kids with someone who’s less fucked in the head? A safer choice?”

Katie’s expression grew sorrowful. “Jay,” she said, offering up an earnest smile. “Jensen _knows_ you. And he knows that everything you do, you do to protect the people you love.”

Jared closed his eyes at the words as he struggled with his emotions.

Katie got up from her chair, walking over and wrapping her arms around Jared’s neck in a loose hug. They were standing toe-to-toe, Jared’s gaze fixed on the floor as though he couldn’t bear to face her.

“It’s his big fucking break, Jay,” Katie implored. “He’s waited so long for a chance like this. You really gonna let him go through this alone?”

Jared’s jaw shifted, gaze flicking to the side as he tried to quench the tidal wave of guilt that built up in his chest. Did he wanna see Jensen? Hell, yeah. There was nothing he wanted more. But Jared had spent the entire past day raising havoc in South Boston and the thought of leaving the gang behind when the Reapers were out for blood was a little hard to stomach. Especially after what had happened to Rich.

Jensen and Kelly were safe, at least.

They had Chris.

Jared gently untangled himself from her skinny arms and walked towards the exit. “I’mma go for a ride. Clear my head for a bit.”

“You should take your phone.” Katie picked up Jared’s cell from where it had lain discarded all night. “There are messages on it.”

Jared looked down at the screen and his heart clenched tight when he saw Jensen’s name staring back at him in bold, flashing letters.

“I’ll be outside,” Jared said distractedly and pulled the door of the warehouse shut behind himself. He hit the play button with a sense of dread and urgency, an inert feeling that something was wrong.

_“Jared. Jay, It’s me. I—”_

Jared squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of Jensen’s voice, at the way he broke himself off, voice wavering and breathing erratic. Icy rain fell down on him like a million needle stings, but he couldn’t get himself to move out of the rain as he waited for Jensen’s voice to continue speaking.

 _“I tried to tell myself that I shouldn’t do this, that I needed to be strong so you can be strong. But I guess this is where I draw the line, okay?_ I- I _give up. I need to hear your voice. I feel like I’m dying every time I get your voicemail because I don’t know if you ran out of battery or if you’re lying somewhere in a puddle of your own blood and I can’t…”_ Jensen’s voice cracked and Jared’s vision went blurry. A shiver wracked his spine and it had nothing to do with the rain or the cold. _“I’m gonna have surgery later this week and if something goes wrong I need you here for this. I don’t think I can go through this alone.”_

The voicemail ended and Jared dropped his hand somewhat shakily. He took a moment to gather his bearings before he started the second voice message.

_“Jay, it’s Chris. Something’s wrong with Jenny. He’s been acting strange all morning. Call me when you get this, alright?”_

In the sudden silence, all Jared could hear was the sound of his harsh breathing.

Having Katie tell him and actually hearing the words from Jensen’s mouth, were two completely different things. And Chris? Jared knew his friend wouldn’t be calling if he wasn’t seriously concerned about Jensen’s wellbeing.

Jensen needed him. And just like that, there was no question about whether he should stay in Boston or not. It didn’t matter what the Reapers had planned.

Nothing mattered but the fact that Jensen needed him.

Jared knew what he had to do.

 

  
  
Jensen slammed the door to Fuller’s office shut with a loud bang, his expression thunderous.  
  
He hoped that the anger was masking his fear, that Fuller couldn’t see the terror that was well-hidden behind all that spiteful fire, because god, Jensen had dreaded this moment.  
  
“This isn’t what we agreed on,” he growled, slightly out of breath from having bolted up the stairs to the office after Fuller had called out for him through the PA system. “What happened to _‘same time,_ same _place’_?”  
  
Jensen had been setting up his last paintings for the vernissage, watching a group of catering staff buzz around the atelier in a flurry, when Fuller’s voice had cackled through the speakers, demanding he’d come to report in his office.

The walk to Fuller’s office had felt like walking to the gallows.  
  
Jensen was still dressed in his atelier clothes. His loose gray sweater had specks of acrylic color and turpentine spilled all over it, his hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed and he curled his fingers into fists to hide that they were shaking. “We had a _deal_.”  
  
Fuller ogled him like a slab of meat, running his eyes up and down Jensen’s body. He rounded the table slowly, taking his time. “I changed my mind.”

Jensen turned his head away on instinct when Fuller leaned in for a kiss. It was a knee-jerk reaction, his gut clenching fearfully as he avoided the older man’s lips only narrowly.  
  
Fuller’s expression darkened at the rejection. He grasped the side of Jensen’s face, fingers digging into Jensen’s cheeks hard enough to leave bruises. “I thought we were past the rebellious act, Jensen. I don’t have to remind you what’s at stake, here, do I?”

Having no other choice but to look at Fuller, Jensen put as much hatred into his gaze as humanly possible.

He figured his silence was answer enough.  
  
Fuller’s thumb skirted up to brush over Jensen’s bottom lip, his thumb pressing into the plush flesh testily. “Open your mouth,” Fuller demanded, his voice husky and his pupils huge.

There was a not so subtle bulge in the guy’s pants, and Jensen almost gagged at the feel of it against his leg.

“Open up,” Fuller hissed when Jensen didn’t immediately do as he was told.  
  
Jensen felt something inside of him crumbling to pieces as he reluctantly parted his lips to the persistent pressure of Fuller’s thumb.

“That’s it,” Fuller praised him eagerly. “There you go.”  
  
Jensen’s glare was an act of violence, vicious enough to stop the guy’s heart.

“You know what to do, don’t you?” Fuller asked him with a twisted smile.

Jensen closed his eyes in humiliation as he started sucking on the finger in a way that was unmistakably a build-up for another appendage.

There wasn’t much in his life that Jensen was ashamed of. If he got a chance to go back and change his past, he was pretty sure that there wouldn’t be any major do-overs. He had some regrets, sure, same as everyone else, but even so, there wasn’t anything he was really ashamed of. Not until now.  
  
He didn’t want to remember degrading himself in front of this sadistic prick, but the truth was he was not likely to ever forget it.  
  
Fuller’s touch burned him, consumed him like a fire. There was an obsession to it, an absolute intensity that had Jensen’s insides knotted up with crippling fear.  
  
Fuller extracted his thumb then, only to replace it with his index and middle finger. Jensen’s cheeks flamed with shame as he adjusted himself to the change. He started bobbing his head so that Fuller’s fingers went in and out. Upon doing so, he opened his eyes again to stare up at the older male from behind clumpy lashes, knowing it was what the man wanted, to see the flush of humiliation burning Jensen’s cheeks.  
  
Fuller was watching him intently, his dick twitching eagerly against Jensen’s thigh as Jensen hollowed his cheeks and sucked a bit harder. He kept his ministrations clinical and efficient, thankful for the fact that it was _just_ the guy’s fingers and nothing else. The mere thought of going beyond kisses and whatever kinky shit this was eclipsed his shame into horror, but Jensen wasn’t naive enough to think that Fuller’s torment was going to stop at fingers.  
  
Fuller groaned and withdrew his fingers so quickly, it caused Jensen to gasp for air.

He was just so damn thankful for it to be over, allowing his brain to come back online. It felt like an eternity had passed but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.  
  
“I knew you were made for this,” Fuller whispered harshly, his breath hot and ragged against Jensen’s ear as he started shoving Jensen’s sweater up, fingers running up Jensen’s lean, chest, thumbs flicking his nipples. Jensen bit his lip to hold back a gasp. Tears burning his eyes, both at the violation as well as the hateful words. “How many guys have you been with, huh? You been whoring yourself out, Dr. Ackles? Did you let some of those teachers have a go at you before they wrote their fancy letters of recommendation?”  
  
Try as he might, Jensen couldn’t bite back the small whimper that escaped him when Fuller yanked him around and shoved him forward so that he was bent over the workstation. Jensen’s arms shot out on instinct, trying to gains some sort of foothold as Fuller’s fingers found their way down the front of his jeans. Jensen shut his eyes against the bite of tears.

He had about five full-fledged seconds to panic, mind screaming at him to _‘stop it, stop this, do something, scream, bite, claw, punch’_ before they were interrupted.  
  
“Kurt?” a female voice called out, causing them both to freeze, breath catching in their throat.

There was a sharp rap against Fuller’s office door, followed by the frantic rattle of the doorknob and Jensen’s heart jumped up in his chest with utter panic. He could only imagine the picture they made, Fuller with his hand down the front of his pants, tears coursing down Jensen’s face. “Kurt, it’s me, Martha. Open the door. Our son got himself into trouble, again. The principal called me five minutes ago.”  
  
Jensen didn’t dare to breathe.  
  
For a moment they both stayed completely still, then Fuller cursed angrily and moved off of Jensen, hand slipping out of his boxer briefs.  
  
Pulling away, Fuller landed a harsh slap to Jensen’s ass, before adjusting his half-hard dick in his suit pants. Jensen flinched and his fingers curled into the table hard enough for his knuckles to go chalk-white. He had never wanted to kill anyone more in his life.

“I’ll be right with you Martha!” Fuller called out to his wife, walking over to the small mirror in the corner of the room and straightening his tie as though nothing had happened.  
  
Jensen was barely capable of moving, he was shaking so hard. He fumbled with the zipper of his jeans and wiped the sleeve of his sweatshirt across his face to wipe off the tears.  
  
“You should get ready,” Fuller said. “It’s your big night after all.”

He walked to the door, hand on the knob before turning to Jensen. “We’ll continue where we started when the exhibit’s over.”

 

 

Jensen was trapped and he knew it.

No way out.

No, that wasn’t right, there _was_ a way out, but the consequences were too awful to consider.

Except that the consequences of not taking the way out were starting to seem worse.  
  
Jensen knew what was coming. Things were heading in one direction, a natural progression, if you wanted. Fucked-up but all the same.

His stress levels were officially shooting through the roof and if he went at this rate, the baby was never going to make it, surgery be damned. Jensen knew that. He also knew that he’d never get over this if he allowed it to happen. That no amount of therapy sessions would ever get him to forgive himself for just lying there and taking it when he knew the consequences.

It was a price Jared wouldn’t want him to pay.

Not ever. Not under any circumstances.

Which was why Jensen decided that he couldn’t take things any further than he already had. He wasn’t going to let this bastard rip his family apart, not after all the crap they’d been through. Not without putting up one hell of a fight.

Fuller had picked the wrong guy to lust after.

Jensen was pacing the length of the atelier, as he searched his contacts for Chase’s number and hit the dial button. While the phone rang, Jensen started going through various drawers, yanking open cupboards and ransacking through his toolbox.

He grabbed a precision screwdriver with a screw-bit-4, a couple of cables, an AC-to-DC current power adapter, some electrical tape and a dremel. If Tom could see him he would doubtlessly make a joke about MacGyver now.  
  
_“‘sup?”_ Chase answered on the fourth ring, sounding out of breath.  
  
“Chase. It’s me.”  
  
_“Jensen?”_  
  
“Is Jared with you?”  
  
_“Not this shit again,”_ Chase said and there was movement on the other line. _“Look, the guy hasn’t so much as looked at me ever since the two of you got together, so—”_

“Shut up, Chase,” Jensen snapped with an annoyed roll of his eyes. “I couldn’t reach him yesterday. I just wanna know if he’s with you guys.”

 _“He’s fine._ Battery’s _probably dead. Want me to leave him a message?”_  
  
“No,” Jensen said quickly. “I was actually trying to talk to _you_.”  
  
_“Really?”_ Chase sounded skeptical and Jensen couldn’t hold it against him. They didn’t exactly have the best track record. _“Alright, I’ll bite. What do you want from me?”_  
  
“How much do you know about bugs?” Jensen asked.  
  
_“Bugs?”_ Chase repeated, sounding puzzled.  
  
“Electronic surveillance bugs,” Jensen specified. “Like the ones Jack planted in Chad’s house. I need to know what kind they are, how they work.”  
  
_“Dude,”_ Chase groaned into the speaker. _“Do you need to know that now or can we postpone our little tech-talk to another time? I kinda hard-shouldered on the highway to take your call, man.”_  
  
Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose to keep his patience. “They are radio frequency bugs, right? Is it a real-time transmission or can they also record?”  
  
Chase relented with a sigh. _“Of course they can record. That’s their whole fucking purpose. They’re essentially nothing more than tiny tape recorders wired into the phone line or stuck under the dining table. What—”_

“But if I tuned them, I could also do a real-time transmission, correct?” Jensen interrupted. “Say, I changed the level equalization by adding a loop extender to re-encode the signals?”

 _“Well somebody did his homework.”_ Chase was shocked into silence for a moment. _“Yeah. I guess that could work. Why would you wanna—”_  
  
“Thanks.” Jensen hung up the phone and stashed it away. Not wasting any time, he shoved his hands into his jeans pocket and found the small, harmless-looking, surveillance bug he’d gotten from Jack a few days ago.  
  
He turned the tiny object around in his palm and closed his eyes, fingers curling around the little electronic device until they formed a fist.

 

  
Mike was a bit surprised when he’d gotten Jensen’s phone call earlier. He and Tom had been in the middle of an appointment at the fertility clinic. Mike had fully intended on telling Jensen to call later and switching his phone off, but one choked-off attempt at talking from Jensen was all it took for him to make up a hasty excuse about work and rush out of the clinic. Jensen had given him the address of a nearby motel, had made it very clear to come _alone._

The motel was one of those seedy places where hookers brought their johns and paid for rooms by the hour. Wild weeds grew through the cracks in the concrete path and the trash from cheap take-out meals was strewn across it.

Mike idly wondered what Tom would think of him if he ever found out that Mike had left their 3,000 dollar doctor’s appointment at a private clinic in order to meet Jensen in a no-tell-motel.

Whatever level of annoyance he’d felt, vanished the second Jensen opened the door for him.

Mike wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it sure as hell wasn’t _this._

After Jensen had finished talking, they were both sitting on the edge of the seedy motel bed shoulder to shoulder. Words stuck in Mike’s throat like shards of glass. “Jensen. I don’t even know what to say.”

Mike had never seen Jensen so wrecked before. Jensen was vibrant and strong, eyes dancing and face thrown back in laughter. He was gentle and smart and so genuinely caring about the people around him. To think that Fuller had cornered Jensen in his office to try and take that from him was making Mike physically sick.

“Did he do more than kiss you?” Mike asked, voice sounding unnaturally harsh in the silence of their motel room. He really wished there was a nicer way of doing this but there wasn’t.

Jensen still didn’t look at him but his cheeks flushed an even deeper scarlet at the question. He bit his swollen bottom lip and continued to stare at the carpet.

“I know this is hard, but…” Mike swallowed, closing his eyes and letting out a slow breath. “Did he force himself on you in any other way?”

Jensen shook his head. “Just the thing with the fingers,” he answered brokenly and there was no way Mike could have missed the tremor in his voice. “For _now_.”

Mike nodded, trying to stay clear-headed even when his heart was racing in his chest and his breath was coming way too fast. And it made so much sense now, why it wasn’t allowed to work a case when you knew one of the clients, because Mike couldn’t get the image out of his mind, Jensen pinned down over the edge of the table with Fuller’s mouth and hands all over him. _Victimized._  
  
“In the beginning, when he first made his move on you. Did you say ‘no’?” Mike asked softly and it was only then that Jensen finally looked up to meet his gaze, eyes ablaze with anger.  
  
“What the _hell_ , Mike? What kind of a fucked up question is that?”  
  
“I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want for any of this to happen, but he _blackmailed_ you, Jensen. I need to know that you didn’t make any bargains or deals with him okay?”  
  
“Like what?” Jensen snapped, getting up from his seat. “Like for me to become his _bitch_ so Kelly won’t have to grow up without a father? Do you mean that kind of deal?”  
  
“Jensen.” Mike’s chest clenched with empathy and pain for his friend. Like that wasn’t exactly the kind of reasoning Jensen had gone through when he allowed Fuller to kiss and touch him. “Please just try to answer my question.”  
  
Jensen swallowed, driving shaking fingers through brunette hair. “I tried to—“ he shook his head, biting his lower lip.  
  
“You tried to do what?”  
  
“I was going to let him go further,” Jensen laughed as though all of this just a joke and Mike felt his throat close up on him. “I tried to, but I couldn’t.”

Mike could hardly breathe through his anger. Jensen had tried to make himself endure Fuller’s abuse and he was blaming himself for not having been able to go through with it.  
  
When Jensen's expressive eyes met Mike’s, all the fear and pain the younger man must have gone through in the past few hours was right there, simmering in them. “It feels like I _failed_  him somehow. Like I’ve doomed him to go to prison.”  
  
“You didn’t _fail_ anyone, you hear me?” Mike said intently. “That bastard tried to blackmail you into having sex with him and you didn’t let it happen. That’s a good thing, alright? Jay would have expected nothing less of you,” Mike argued. “The only one who’s going to prison after this is Fuller.”  
  
“You’re right.” Jensen nodded and pulled a tiny device from his jeans.

Mike frowned as he picked the trinket up. “Is that what I think it is?”  
  
“Wiretap,” Jensen explained. “With Fuller's societal standing, the cops will write me off as some attention-hungry slut unless I have incriminating evidence.”  
  
Mike got up as well when Jensen’s words sank in and realization dawned on him. “I’m not letting you walk back into that guy’s office.”  
  
“This is our only shot and you know it,” Jensen said, tone heavy with resignation.

Mike ran a hand over his mouth. “How long do we have before you’re alone with him?”  
  
Jensen bit his bottom lip. “Three, maybe four hours.”  
  
Mike nodded and let out a breath. “You should get ready. I’ll arrange everything with the cops.”

 

  
  
  
The theme of the vernissage was ‘Look beyond’ and there were paintings of the starry night sky, the city from a rooftop on a cloudy day (Jensen had sketched it out after their trip to New York City). There were a few sketches of people laughing together in parks and restaurants, a few happy moments in time caught on paper or canvas. The rest was mostly various views from scenic routes Jared had taken him onto, overlooking cities in a bird-eye perspective.

Jensen’s masterpiece was a painting of a wolf howling at the moon, hyper-realistic, every hair of the wolf’s pelt was visible and practically jumping off the canvas. Even the moon’s manifold craters were thinly outlined with every brush of color Jensen had used. He would have thought the motif was too cheesy, that it didn’t fit the overall theme, but he had felt compelled to make the painting the centerpiece of the exhibit.

It was Jared’s tattoo. The one on his neck, that Jensen liked second-best after phoenix emblem on Jared’s chest.  
  
“This piece is really extraordinary,” one of the local art critics mused. “I love that you kept it gray. Color would have never done it any justice. This way it’s almost _haunting_.”  
  
“I’m glad you like it,” Jensen returned with a tight smile.  
  
He had been a ghost pretty much since the moment he had stepped inside the atelier to find Fuller there. His gaze had been vacant and unseeing, his ears had been throbbing with the beat of his own heart, the rush of the blood whooshing through his body. He could see peoples’ lips moving, but he didn’t really know what they were saying. He was being dragged from one end of the atelier to another and introduced to several different sponsors and buyers by one of the program coordinators, as well as by Fuller, who seemed to do a lot of the talking for Jensen whenever Jensen’s tongue got too tied up to allow words to pass.  
  
A few people had asked Jensen if he was okay, but Jensen had brushed their concern off and told them not to worry with a fake smile.  
  
Jensen had gotten about twenty text messages from his friends wishing him the best of luck and sending him love, but he hadn’t been able to open even one of them, knowing if he read any of his friends’ kind words he’d break down completely.

Jensen couldn’t believe he was standing there, sipping champagne and counting down the minutes for him to be back in Fuller’s office.  
  
Jensen had waited for a chance like this for so damn long, had wished for an opportunity to showcase his art in front of the media and other artists to make a name for himself, not as a genius or a professor or a doctor, but as an artist. And now Jensen wanted nothing more but to be somewhere else, anywhere but in the midst of the spotlight, exposed to the eyes of all these strangers. It felt as though their eyes were all boring into him from the side, as though they all knew that Fuller’s mark was on him beneath layers of expensive silk and French perfume.  
  
Just when the situation was about to grow unbearable, a flash of black leather caught Jensen’s eyes from the corner of his vision. It couldn’t be. No fucking way...

When he turned around to spot a pair of familiar hazel eyes across the atelier, Jensen’s heart damn near gave out. Jared was standing amidst the crowd in his boots and leather jacket, hair in a natural tousle, thick brown strands framing his cheeks in a way that made his eyes pop. He was stunning and whole and safe and right fucking there.  
  
Fuller was still on a monologue of Jensen’s unique way to capture ‘minimalistic impressionism’ when Jensen’s legs started moving on their own account.  
  
Jared barely made it five steps inside the atelier before Jensen met him halfway. He flung himself around Jared’s neck and kissed his boyfriend in front of the whole crowd. There were a few startled gasps, a few flashes went off, but Jensen didn’t care. At that moment, for the first time in days, he felt like things might eventually be okay again. Like they would make it through this, no matter how bleak their situation was because they were back together and that made all the difference in the world. They broke apart, their foreheads resting together, their breaths mingling intimately and Jensen never wanted for the moment to end. “Thank you.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“For coming.” Jensen’s voice wavered, tears shining in his eyes as he leaned forward for one more brush of his lips against Jared’s, coaxing them apart. Jensen’s hands came up to Jared’s jaw as he deepened the kiss, allowing the world to fade away.  
  
It had been too long. Far too long. Now that Jared was back, Jensen couldn’t imagine spending even a minute away from him.  
  
They broke apart and Jared’s gaze full of concern as he traced the freckles on Jensen’s cheek with his thumb. “I got your voicemail. Are you okay?”  
  
Jensen glanced over to see Fuller’s eyes on him, could feel the bristling fury in Fuller’s expression, even from ten feet away and he knew he needed Jared to leave.  
  
“Hey,” Jared’s hand rested below his ear, his thumb caressing Jensen’s cheek to get his attention. He ran his fingers down along Jensen’s spine until his palm came to rest against the small of Jensen’s back. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”  
  
Jensen rolled his lips into his mouth and looked back up at Jared. “The exhibit is almost over and I’m gonna have to help clean some of this stuff up. Why don’t you go on home without me and I’ll catch up with you in an hour or two?”  
  
Jared dipped his head with a bitter little smile. He glanced around the room at all the critics and journalists, then down at himself with a self-deprecating expression on his face. “You embarrassed by me?”  
  
“Don’t be an idiot,” Jensen said fiercely, holding Jared’s gaze to make him see the earnest emotion in his eyes. It pained Jensen to let Jared go thinking he didn’t want to be seen with Jared at an event like this because it wasn’t like that at all. But he needed Jared gone until this was over. He needed Jared far, far away from Fuller. “Go home and get settled, spend some time with Kelly. And when I get home we can talk.”

“Are you sure?” Jared frowned.  
  
Jensen nodded. “I’ll see you at home, okay?” he offered, getting up on his tiptoes to press an apologetic peck against the corner of Jared’s lips. “I’m sorry.”  
  
He closed his eyes and savored the kiss like it was the last one they were ever gonna get. There was a fine sheen of tears in his eyes when he opened them to stare into Jared’s beautiful eyes.  
  
“Okay.” Jared gave a gentle nod toward the crowd of onlookers. “Make me proud.”  
  
Jensen offered up a tremulous smile, hoping to cover up how sick the words made him.  
  
_‘If only you knew,’_ he thought bitterly and turned his back on Jared.

 

 

It was somewhere close to the end of the event, when Jensen emerged from the bathroom with self-made wiretap stuck to the small of his back, fidgeting uncomfortably in his suit as he watched the last of the guests leave the reception.

He had made sure to tape the transmitter down low so it was covered up by the waistband of his navy blue suit pants. Then he had started a recording on his cell phone.

Ever since Jared had shown up, Fuller’s anger had been palpable, the tension crackling between them for the rest of the night. Jensen knew he was going to pay for the open display of affection, but he didn’t care. He had waited too long for Jared to be back in his arms to let Fuller take that away from him.

Just a minute after Jensen had settled in the chair in Fuller’s office, Fuller stormed in and slammed the door, locking it behind himself.  
  
The older man’s eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at Jensen across the small office room.

He was loosening his tie with an angry jerk of his hand, yanking the expensive silk off his neck and shrugging off his suit jacket. “Get on your knees.”

Jensen looked Fuller square in the eyes and jutted out his chin when he spoke. “No.”

Fuller’s expression shifted from angry to smoldering. Slowly, languorously, he stalked forward. “I. Said. On your knees,” he growled and yanked Jensen out of the leather chair.  
  
Jensen looked at him with every bit of disgust he could muster. “Yeah. And I said _no_.”

Jensen was aiming to get Fuller on as many changes as possible. Assault, attempted rape, extortion, whatever would stick. He had done some research and found out that to prove rape in most states, the prosecution must establish three elements: sexual penetration, lack of consent and force or threat of force. Lack of consent was ticked off the list. Force was only a matter of time. And penetration? Well, it wasn’t going to come to that if Jensen had any say in the matter.  
  
“You ungrateful fag!” Before Jensen knew it, Fuller backhanded him hard enough to hear the resounding smack of his hand against Jensen’s skin. Jensen toppled back from the force of the blow, legs hitting the edge of Fuller’s workstation. “You don’t get to say ‘no’ to me!” Fuller roughly manhandled Jensen’s suit jacket off of his arms and then fumbled with the buttons of his shirt for a second before he ripped the fabric apart. Cool air hit Jensen’s exposed chest and he shuddered when Fuller’s hands were back on him, roughly shoving him back against the wooden desk, sending him sprawling across the table top.

“I’ve done _everything_ for you,” Fuller bit out from behind clenched teeth. “I’ve bent over backward organizing this exhibit for you and this is how you thank me? By bringing this disgrace along and sticking your tongue down his throat?”

Jensen looked at the guy with pure hatred in his gaze. “What’s the matter, Kurt? Can’t bear to see what you’ll never have?” he spat out, breathing heavily.

As expected, the words earned Jensen another slap to the face. This time Fuller hit him hard enough to split his lip, blood filling his mouth as his mind radiated with pain and his vision clouded over. Jensen spat a glob of blood onto Fuller’s tabletop and wiped at his mouth.

“I hope you took a good look at his face.” Fuller yanked his leather belt off with a rough tug of his wrist. “When I’m through with you two, they’ll stick him in a soundproof, windowless cell in a maximum security prison and let him rot in there.”

 _Extortion._ Another one ticked off the list.

Jensen’s arms were shaking as he clasped the edge of the desk to hold himself upright. He stared at Fuller with fire burning in his eyes. “You can stick me in that damn prison along with him. I don’t care,” he snapped. “Still a better fate than being your _bitch_.”

Fuller’s expression darkened at the words, tendons working furiously beneath the skin on his throat. There was a second of tense silence, before Fuller was on him, all gritted teeth and knotted muscle and searching, groping, bruising hands.

“Get off me!” Jensen hissed, clawing at the man’s arms and chest in a desperate attempt to fend him off. “Get your motherfucking hands off me now or I’ll—”

“Shut up!” Fuller hissed. He roughly looped the belt around Jensen’s wrists and strapped the buckle shut, thick leather biting into Jensen’s skin as he pushed Jensen back and pinned his bound hands above his head.

Jensen started to panic. He tried to buck up as Fuller clambered on top of him, but Fuller was like a man possessed, his eyes near black as he redoubled his efforts to hold Jensen down. Fuller’s thighs forced his legs apart and humiliation surged up to choke Jensen.

“Fuck you!” Jensen hissed.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Fuller said, sounding amused as he leaned down to whisper hot words against Jensen’s ear. “That’s the intention.”

 

 

The hitch in Jensen’s breath was all Fuller needed for an opening before he delved in. Jensen fought him hard, trying to twist his head away. But Fuller didn’t give a shit about the kid’s pleasure anymore. Willing, or not, it was no longer of importance. Not really. The guy’s lips were just as soft as they looked, plump and pliant and Fuller dug his teeth into the cut just to make him whimper.

When he felt that he had properly shown his appreciation, he drew back and looked at his handiwork. Jensen's breathing had sped up, his eyes were clenched closed, his cheeks had flushed a dark shade of pink and his lips were bitten raw. They looked fluffy and swollen, just like a whore’s after a blowjob. They were bleeding from where Fuller had hit him earlier which made them look downright sinful.  
  
Fuller investigated the cut with his finger, took a bit of blood from it and licked it off his thumb, tasting the metallic tinge copper as his dick twitched in his pants. It excited him, seeing Jensen so defeated.  
  
“There,” Fuller grinned. “That wasn’t so difficult, now, was it?”  
  
He ground his erection forward, causing the boy to gasp and arch up from the desktop. “Bet your boyfriend never kissed you like this.”

Anger flashed in Jensen’s eyes and Fuller was entranced by the change in his features, by the play of emotions on his pretty face. This was why he chose Jensen. Nobody looked more beautiful with tears in their eyes and anger in their gaze.

“Jared never had to tie me up, if that’s what you mean,” Jensen bit out from behind clenched teeth.

With a snarl, Fuller let go of Jensen’s wrists in favor of working his pants open. Jensen started struggling again, but Fuller quickly subdued him with a well-aimed elbow to the middle. The boy gasped and tried to curl up, knees lifted up to his stomach protectively at the same time as his tied-up arms shot down, guarding his abdomen. “S-stop. Stop it, please.”

Fuller grabbed a fistful of Jensen’s suit pants and yanked on them, sliding them down Jensen’s hips as the man shuddered. He didn’t fight back much anymore, all the stubborn defiance and fiery comebacks having ceased at the prospect of losing his _brat._

“I’m _pregnant_.”

Fuller almost had to strain his ears to hear the whispered words. But he knew he hadn’t imagined them when Jensen looked at him with a tear-filled look.

“It’s _sick_.” A tear slipped free from Jensen’s eyes. He was trembling when Fuller slid a palm up his bare thigh. “You have kids of your own. Please don’t do this.”

“Should have thought about that, before you said _no_ to me,” Fuller growled and tugged on Jensen’s legs so that the younger man slid towards the edge of the desk. He yanked the pooling fabric of Jensen’s suit pants down to his ankles. The kid bucked up wildly, snarling and kicking until a dull thud ripped him out of his stupor. Fuller looked down to see that Jensen’s phone had slipped from his pants and onto the floor.

Fuller let go of Jensen to get the phone. He pressed the home button and saw that Jensen had started an audio recording before he came into the office. That little, backstabbing snitch was recording him.

“It’s not like you think,” Jensen pleaded, recognizing the ice-cold rage in Fuller’s eyes.

Fuller dumped the phone in the half-full glass of water on his table. His nostrils were flaring, eyes flashing dangerously.

Jensen cried out when Fuller’s hand gripping a fistful of Jensen’s hair as he roughly threw him off the desk. He crumpled to the ground on his stomach, trying to prop himself up on his elbows, disoriented and slow as Fuller skulked to him.

“Stubborn bitch to the end, are you?” Fuller snarled. “What do you think would be an appropriate punishment for a treacherous little slut like yourself?”

Jensen grunted when Fuller dropped down on top of him, trying to work his boxers off. Jensen fought back, but Fuller was undeterred. “Maybe I should fuck that baby right out of you, mhm?”

The words caused Jensen to snap. The younger man reared back, slamming his head with all his might into Fuller’s face. He connected with a sickening cracking sound and Fuller let out a muffled curse as he tumbled back. Jensen’s bound hands twisted against the belt as he nailed Fuller in the ribs with his elbows. Vicious pain exploding behind Fuller’s chest and Fuller’s head spun as he wheezed for air. Jensen tried to follow the attack with a hit to the face, but this time, Fuller caught his hands.

“Motherfucker,” Jensen hissed, thrashing wildly as he tried to shake him off.

“Shit,” Fuller spat. “Hold still!”

Fuller was cut off when the door to his office was roughly kicked in and a whole group of policemen came bursting into the room with their guns drawn. “STAND DOWN! Hands were we can see them, now!”

They continued to yell orders at him, but Fuller didn’t really register anything over the sound of his own blood whooshing through his body.

Jensen rolled onto his knees, scrambling away from underneath Fuller as the room around them exploded in action, policemen filtering in as Fuller fumbled to get his pants back on.

Jensen lifted his bound hands to grasp the leather belt with his teeth and undo the buckle. He worked to remove Fuller’s makeshift-restraint just as one of the cops - a young man, tall, bald and broad-shouldered- walked up to Jensen and hugged him.

Fuller watched as the cop helped to work the belt off of Jensen's wrists. They stood shoulder to shoulder, exchanging soft looks and even softer touches. Jensen pulled his pants back up and tried to cover his chest back up with the ripped remnants of his dress shirt. He was a mess, covered in sweat and with blood coating his lips and smeared down his chin. Fuller couldn’t help but feel as though he’d been given the shiniest toy in the world only to have it ripped away the next second.

Jensen held his gaze steadily as he pulled a wire from the back of his ripped shirt.

Fucking wiretap.

The kid had played him.

From everything he said, to how far he had let Fuller go - from the phone recording to the way he had made Fuller repeat the ‘deal’ they had with each other, to the way he had brought up the pregnancy - Jensen had made sure a lawyer would be able to use all of the incriminating evidence against Fuller in court.

This wiretap in Jensen’s fingers was a twenty-one-to-life sentence.

And that little fucker had set him up for it.

Fuller tried to leap over. “I’m gonna kill you, you little—”

Apparently, the police didn’t take too kindly on attempted murder, cause the next thing Fuller knew was the agonizing jolt of a taser gun setting his whole body on fire. Pain erupted behind his eyes like a firework and then he sagged to the ground, sinking into the numbing darkness.

 

  
  
Jensen flinched when Fuller’s body hit the ground, limbs jerking unnaturally as the taser did him in. There was a beat of silence when Fuller’s body stopped seizing. And then the policemen around him erupted in movement, securing Fuller’s hands behind his back and giving each other orders and asking Jensen questions.

Jensen was shivering as he answered them, vision blurred and unfocused.

He wanted to go home and wrap himself into Jared.

He wanted to forget.

But there were some things he needed to do first.

“Mike,” he rasped out weakly, feeling drained and exhausted after the fight. His bottom lip trembled before he bit down on it. He reached out for his friend with one arm, not even aware that he had his other one wrapped around his middle. “He hit me in the stomach. I… I need someone to check me over.”

“Paramedic’s on the way,” Mike said, squeezing Jensen’s shoulder. “You’ll have to go to the station for an official statement and to do the forensic exam, too.”

“Is that really necessary?” Jensen asked in a small voice. “Y’all heard what happened.”

Mike’s expressions filled with compassion, his voice grew soft and gentle. “It’s important to preserve possible DNA evidence, Jensen. Fibers of his clothes, particles of skin, hair - anything will help in court, really.”

Jensen rolled his lips into his mouth and nodded.

A million emotions passed Mike’s features when Mike’s arms settled around Jensen’s shaking frame. Mike’s chin somehow ended up on top of Jensen’s head as Jensen’s fingers buried in his shirt. Jensen squeezed his eyes shut and clung to Mike with everything he had.

 

 

It was past midnight when Mike dropped him off at home.

The lights were all shut off, but Jensen spotted Steve’s Ducati parked next to Chris’ Yamaha and it gave him an odd sense of comfort knowing that Jared was waiting inside.

“You gonna be okay?” Mike asked softly, stalling the engine. “Want me to—”

“Jared can’t know,” Jensen interrupted him, his voice not leaving any room for discussion. He was looking out the windshield, at a spot somewhere in the distance, but his voice was final.

“Jensen—”

“He _can’t_ know,” Jensen said again before finally tearing his gaze away and looking at Mike with a desperate plea in his eyes. “Not ever. Promise me, Mike.”

Mike swallowed, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Jensen. This isn’t something you can keep from him forever. One way or another, Jared’s going to find out about this. What happened will be over the news. They’ll keep your name under wraps but you might have to testify in court later… and if he sees your face—”

“I’ll tell him I was mugged,” Jensen said with a shrug. “Anything but the truth.”

Mike opened his mouth again in protest, but Jensen didn’t give him a chance to say more.

“If Jared finds out, he’ll kill him, Mike. He’ll _kill_ him.”

Mike was quiet for a really long time before he answered. “Fine. He won’t hear it from me.”

Jensen stared at Mike for a second longer, before he opened the door and unfolded his legs from the car, climbing out somewhat gingerly.

He didn’t turn around to say goodbye, just waited until he heard the car drive off the curb before he walked up the porch and let himself into their house.

Chris was asleep on the couch. Jensen sneaked past him, up the stairs and threw a cursory glance into Kelly’s room, watching the slow rise and fall of his son’s chest before he slipped into his and Jared’s bedroom. Jared was fast asleep on their bed.

His features were much softer in sleep, the lines that usually creased his brow replaced by a youthful appearance. He looked peaceful.

Jensen yanked off his ruined clothes and tossed them in the trash before he stalked over to the bed and climbed up on the mattress with a single-minded determination.

 

  
  
Warm and wet are the first words that sprang to Jared’s mind through the foggy haze of sleep. He tried to open his eyes but they slammed shut again as pleasure coursed through his body. His hand shot down to the head bobbing between his legs, gripping the hair tight.

“Jensen? What are y— _holy shit!_ ” Jared bit out, raspy shot from sleep.

Jensen’s only response was to press his tongue against the bundle of nerves beneath the head of his dick. Jared moaned, clenching his fingers tight and then loosening his hold again as Jensen sucked him all the way into his mouth. Jensen pulled off again, just the head in his mouth as he corkscrewed around it and Jared vaguely noticed that something was off with Jensen’s face, that his features looked a bit distorted, a dark shadow beneath his eyes and on his jaw, but in the darkness it was hard to make out anything distinctive and he kinda stopped thinking when Jensen swiped his tongue over the tip of his cock.

Jared groaned and curled his tattooed fingers harder in Jensen’s golden tufts. His pleasure was short-lived. Jensen pulled off after only thirty seconds of velvety bliss, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. And it was a real testament to Jensen’s skills that those thirty seconds had Jared worked-up enough to miss it when Jensen wrapped his hand around the base of his shaft and he lined himself up.

“Wha—“ Jared hissed and his eyes went wide. “Hold on— _fuck_.”

They were moving too fast.

“Jensen, stop. You’re gonna hurt yourself.“

Ignoring Jared’s protests, Jensen sank down on Jared’s cock, gritting his teeth as his face twisted into a pain-filled grimace. He wasn’t prepped. Like not at all. Jensen’s spit was the only thing easing the way and it fucking hurt. Jared could feel every fucking millimeter, every painful contraction of Jensen’s muscles as they tried to adjust to Jared’s girth.

They shouldn’t go without foreplay because Jared was fucking big and unless Jensen had fucked around with someone else, it’s been a while. Jensen was gonna tear himself up inside. He was gonna hurt himself. And Jared really, honestly wanted to point that out, but then Jensen sank down all the way, completely sheathed on Jared’s cock and did that tiny, testy figure-eight motion with his hips that caused them both to gasp and struggle for air because it was _toomuch-toosoon-toofuckinggood._

Jared’s head fell back, exposing the smooth white column of his throat, the strong outline of his wolf tattoo on his neck. “Jen. What the…?” he gasped.

Jared was unable to finish his sentence when Jensen started to move, mouth hanging open and thighs flexing as he slowly – oh so slowly – lifted up, cock bobbing darkly against his pale skin.

Jared shuddered.

“Missed you,” Jensen whispered and there was a tremor in his voice that, if Jared didn’t know it any better, he might have thought Jensen was going to cry. But Jensen didn’t cry. Instead, he rolled his hips and fisted his cock and moaned Jared’s name while Jared lay there and stared at him like he was trapped in some kind of out-of-body-experience.

Jensen was riding him like he had never known anything else in his life, all teary-eyed and open-mouthed and with a flush climbing up his whole body, dusting up his nipples and coloring his face as sweat pearled on his forehead and on the grove above his plush, kiss-swollen lips.

Jared gawked at him and wondered how the fuck this was even his life. Seriously.

“Jen.” Jared was panting now and he wasn’t even sure how he was still capable of lucid thought, least of all, coherent speech. “Jen, baby. S-slow down.”

Ignoring him, Jensen continued to fuck himself on Jared’s dick the way he wanted to, fast and rough and dirty. It was new and scary and strange, each downward thrust feeling like he’d split at the seams.  Jared was pretty sure that he screamed at some point, but Jensen just took those screams and turned them into garbled strings of curses and broken moans for more.

They’d gone rough, sure. But usually, it was Jared who did the manhandling, Jared who did the growling and biting and fucking. Jared who made sure that even when he was rough, he wasn’t harming Jensen in any way. But this was so fucking good, sending sparks of pleasure-pain through Jared’s entire body. It was like being sawed through by a bolt of lightning. Hot and electric.

If Jensen kept going like this, there’d be nothing left of him and Jared was grunting- screaming, mouth dropping open in a silent cry because he couldn’t stop making noises, couldn’t stop looking at the flaring green of Jensen’s eyes, the way his body ground against him in a wild, sensual frenzy. “Missed you. Need you. Please. _Please_.”  
  
There was a desperate quality to Jensen’s voice, a cracking in his tone on the word ‘please’ that registered in Jared’s hazy brain despite all the _yeahgodfuckdon’tstopdon’teverstop._

It was wrong. Because Jensen’s breath was no longer just ragged with lust but it was hitching. And the wetness on Jared’s chest was no longer just sweat. Jensen was…  
  
Jared didn’t get to finish his thought because Jared’s cock scraped against that bundle of nerves inside of Jensen that made him shudder and lose control and for a moment his rhythm faltered and instead of sliding down, Jensen sat down all the way, Jared’s dick filling him so far up his ass that the force of it made Jensen come, arching back with a loud, absolutely broken keening noise as his dick shot stripe after stripe of come onto Jared’s flexing abs.  
  
Jared gasped at the sight of Jensen losing it. When his boyfriend went limp, kind of collapsing against him – he was just a bit of used-up skin and muscle that couldn’t even hold its own head upright because it was so fucked-out – Jared flipped him over, belly-down and trembling, dragging Jensen’s ass up and pounding into it for real. Jared was grunting as he slammed into him with relentless force, making his hips jerk as he fucked Jensen through the mattress. He smashed Jensen’s face against the pillows and muffling tiny little grunts and whimpers Jensen couldn’t quite hold back with every forward thrust, his spent cock doubtlessly in a world of pain as it rubbed against the sheets beneath him.  
  
Jared came with and low growl that he muffled against Jensen’s sweat-slick nape and Jensen just took it, his ass moving back to pull Jared in, even in his fucked-out state. Jared surged down for a dirty, open-mouth kiss, lapping into Jensen’s mouth, across his throat, biting at his neck and the lobe of his ears, fingers digging into Jensen’s hips hard enough to leave bruises. He was trying to cover as much skin as possible with his mark, getting high on the feeling of marking Jensen inside and out. Jensen was his. His. His to kiss and touch and fuck. Jensen was pregnant with Jared’s kid and filled up to the brim with his come and he was going to feel Jared’s dick for the better part of this week. And it gave Jared a level of satisfaction on a deep, deep, innately primal level like nothing else ever could. It made him feel whole again. Sane.  
  
The room spun around him when Jared tried to pull out of Jensen and found that he couldn’t because Jensen was clinging to him, their hips locked together where Jared’s dick was still inside of Jensen. “Don’t.”  
  
“Jensen,“ Jared tried to move off of Jensen again, not wanting to crush the younger man with his dead-weight, but Jensen’s trembling thighs somehow managed to clamp around his waist and Jensen’s arms tightened around his neck, not letting him go.  
  
“ _Don’t_ ,” Jensen choked out and there it was again. That desperate tone, the way his voice cracked. And then Jared realized that the quiver in Jensen’s voice wasn’t just a quiver. And that his shoulders weren’t moving like that because he was breathing so fast. In fact, his ragged pants weren’t pants at all, but soft hitches of breath. “Please don’t.”  
  
Jared grabbed Jensen’s shoulders, trying to pry him off to be able to look at him. “Jensen?”  
  
Jensen tightened his arms around Jared’s neck as he let out a whimper.

Jared had never gone from post-coital bliss to stone-cold sobriety quicker in his life. He tightened his fingers around Jensen’s shoulder and held him at arms-length.  
  
“Jen. Are you… are you _crying_?” The realization that those were actually tears glistening on Jensen’s cheeks, was like someone had taken a bucket full of ice cubes and dumped them in his groin. “What the fuck?”  
  
In an instant, Jared flipped them around so that Jensen was on his back against the mattress and Jared was in control. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“It’s okay,” Jensen whispered through his tears and Jared felt a coldness seep into his bones at the detached tone in Jensen’s voice.

He’d felt it from the second they’d reunited at the art exhibit, that something was off with Jensen. Seriously off. Had felt the hurt emanating off of his boyfriend in waves and he had written it off on the upcoming surgery. But this was something else, something darker than what they were already dealing with. “It’s okay.”  
  
“ _Okay?_ ” Jared slipped out of him then, straightening up far enough to look incredulously at Jensen’s face. “You’re _crying_ , Jensen! Did I hurt you?”  
  
Jensen grimaced, more tears sliding free. “I’m okay. Just let it go.”  
  
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Jared snapped, angry now because this was supposed to feel good. They were supposed to kiss and bask in the afterglow. But all Jared could think about now, was that he had dry-fucked his boyfriend into the mattress while he was emotionally distraught and not enjoying himself. The thought made Jared sick. “You’re gonna tell me what the fuck’s wrong or—”  
  
“Jared, it doesn’t matter. Please just—“  
  
“It matters to me!”  
  
Jensen sat up then, too, wincing as he did and Jared couldn’t fucking believe he’d allowed this to happen, had allowed Jensen to hurt himself with Jared’s help.

Jared flicked the lights on the nightstand on and what he saw when he looked up at Jensen’s face would haunt him for the rest of his life. Jensen’s face was bruised like he’d been beaten, dark circles beneath his red-rimmed eyes and colorful bruises lining the cut of his jaw. And Jared’s mouth dropped open because Jensen had been fine a few hours ago. He’d been fine. Jared would have never left him behind if he’d looked like that.

“Who did this?” Jared’s voice was no longer his own. It came out like a deep, vicious rattle, a promise of certain death for the person who’d dared to raise his hand against Jensen.  
  
“Jay…”  
  
“Who. Did. This?” Jared punctuated each word as he reached out to touch Jensen’s face, running callous, tattooed fingers over the bruises blossoming on Jensen’s freckled skin.  
  
“It’s done,” Jensen whispered, reaching up to entangle his fingers with Jared’s. “It’s dealt with. Please, Jay. Please just let it go.”  
  
Jensen wasn’t one to ever openly ask for anything. Outside of their bedroom, Jared had never heard Jensen beg anyone for anything in his life. And now he was looking at Jared with those wide, tear-filled, gorgeous eyes, pleading with him not to kill the goddamn motherfucker that had hurt him.

Jared touched Jensen’s tattoo, then, brushing his fingertips against the smooth lines of ink running along Jensen’s collarbone. He grazed his thumb over the raised tissue where the cigarette burns used to be. The scars had healed up nicely beneath the black ink, but Jensen still shuddered when he touched them and Jared could still remember Jensen’s pain of receiving those burns, his cracking voice as he called out for help. He could remember the blinding rage and helplessness he had felt and how he had promised himself to never let anything similar happen again, to never let Jensen get hurt again.

“Fuck,” Jared whispered. “ _Fuck, Jensen_.” He sounded shaky now.

Jensen lunged forward, wrapping himself around Jared, tangling his fingers in Jared’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. Jensen’s mouth was hot and unexpected and Jared’s brain could barely catch up with what was happening but he craved Jensen’s lips more than he craved air. They had done this a hundred thousand times before, but right now, it felt like their first kiss. Like they were relearning each other all over again.

Jensen’s hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, pressing into Jared’s skin as if to memorize every blemish, tracing his tattoos as though he needed to make sure they were still there. In-between kisses, he was mumbling. “I’m okay. I promise. I promise. Jay. Please. Just let it go.” Jensen’s voice broke and Jared opened his mouth to swallow the rest of the words with a kiss.

There were a million things Jared wanted to say, but he didn’t. Somewhere deep inside of him, he realized that Jensen was in a fragile state, one that needed Jared to clamp down on his own emotions in order to lend strength. So Jared swallowed down the urge to scream and rage and hunt down the motherfucker who had hurt Jensen and focused on the here and now, instead. He just clung to Jensen’s shoulders like his life depended on it, dug his fingers protectively into the muscle on Jensen’s back and held him.

“I got you,” Jared whispered softly, breath tickling Jensen’s neck. “It’s okay. _I got_ _you_.”

Jensen made a small, hurt sound and nestled into the curve of Jared’s body as they both sank back against the cushions, nestling his head against Jared’s chest and closing his eyes. Jared stroked his hair, soothing like he’d do with Kelly sometimes, and within minutes, Jensen’s breath evened out and Jensen was asleep.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been ages but I hope you guys haven't given up on me yet. I'm sorry for putting the boys through the grinder. But hey, at least they are back together, right? Thank you all for your continued support. If you can spare a minute of your time please share your thoughts with me. Reviews are the fuel to keep my fire. Big shout-out to Kimenem for her amazing input and patience! LOVE YOU GUYS!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning* for bad language, violence, mentions of attempted sexual abuse and physical abuse, mentions of rape and suicide.

****

****

**Open Highway** **  
** **Chapter 12**

Jared didn’t sleep that night.

He was too busy listening to the sound of Jensen’s breathing. Too busy connecting the freckles on Jensen’s back and shoulder with his fingers and watching the bruises on his skin unfold like cherry blossoms.

There was a cut on the right corner of Jensen's bottom lip and another one just above his right cheekbone, and there was a dried streak of blood on his temple from where he’d been backhanded. Red, angry welts marked the inside of his wrists and finger-shaped bruises grazed the skin above his hip bone.

Jared wasn’t stupid. He knew what this was.

He had noticed the way Fuller had looked at Jensen from day one. His stomach had been tied up in knots every goddamn time that fucker raked his eyes all over his boyfriend. And yet, Jared had decided not to be a jealous asshole about it.

Jensen didn’t like it when Jared stepped in to defend his virtue, and in all honesty, Jensen didn’t need anyone to fight his battles for him. But Jared should have _known._ He should have damn well known that that slimy motherfucker would try to pull shit with Jensen. He should have snapped the guy’s neck a long time ago. Should have lurked in the parking lot after closing hours and blown the guy’s brains all over the console of his prissy BMW.

But instead, Jared had been hundred-forty miles away, spewing threats and pressing his gun to the wrong kneecaps. And Jensen? Jensen had paid the price for Jared’s inattentiveness. For his lapse of fucking judgment. The guilt was tearing at Jared’s insides like a beast he didn’t know how to tame.

All pretense at feigning sleep was forgotten when Jensen shifted weakly in Jared’s hold, long eyelashes fluttering against Jared’s tattooed neck as he roused. Jensen breathed hot air against Jared’s throat, reaching down to the bruises on his waist as if to hide them. But it was too late. Jared had already seen them, memorized them, guilt burning in his chest.

Jared slowly pulled away from Jensen and swung his feet off the mattress, just sitting there for a moment. His jaw was locked so hard he could hear his teeth grinding. His fingers were digging into the duvet until his knuckles turned chalk white.

He tensed up even further when the sheets rustled behind him, but there was no dip of the mattress to follow the original movement, no gentle hand on his shoulder, no body-warmth to indicate that Jensen had moved closer.

The silence hung in the air like the presence of a stranger, unfamiliar and _wrong._ There were miles between them right now and it felt like with every second the gap only grew further.

Jared sent a glance over his shoulder only to find Jensen leaning against the headboard, looking like crap warmed over. His shoulders were slumped, the sheets tucked up to his chest in order to hide the bruises on his torso and the fingerprints on his waist. His eyes were downcast like he couldn’t bear to look at Jared. He was ashamed. Scared. And he still wasn’t _talking_ \- didn’t trust Jared enough to open up about whatever the hell had happened.

Jared wanted to shake Jensen’s shoulders and yell at him, he wanted to clutch him tight and apologize for not being there. He wanted to ask for forgiveness. But he did none of those things.

“Do you need a doctor?” Jared eventually asked, voice gruff from lack of use. He kept the question vague on purpose. _Are you injured anywhere I can’t see? Is the baby okay? Do you need a rape kit done?_ Fuck. A full-body shudder wrecked him at the thought. He couldn’t believe that _rape_ was even in the ballpark of possibilities.

Jensen’s eyes were focused on the ground when he spoke. “No.” His mouth turned down at the corners and for a second Jared thought that his boyfriend was going to cry. “Doc said we’re okay. ”

The words made a heavy ache spread in Jared’s chest, gripping his throat. It was too much, his anger over Jensen not telling him. His helplessness. The guilt. The emotions were overwhelming him, battling for dominance in his chest.

“You should get some more rest,” Jared forced out, rising from the mattress. He picked up a set of fresh clothes and got dressed. He didn’t bother with a shower. He just wanted _out._

Jensen’s eyes widened as he watched Jared stash the ‘45 away in the back of his jeans.

He scrambled forward on the mattress, bestowing Jared with a desperate look. “Jay, wait.”

Unbothered by the words, Jared strode over to the doorway, not turning around to look at Jensen.

“Jay, _please._ ” Jensen’s voice broke and that stopped Jared dead in his track. He hovered in the doorway, fingers wrapped around the knob as he dipped his head forward in defeat.

“Where are you going?” Jensen asked, voice wavering.

Jared wanted to lose it then. The words sparked a fire inside his chest, anger pulsing hot and heavy through his veins. He knew if he turned around to face Jensen he’d be yelling, cords standing out on his neck. Because twice now Jensen had lied to Jared’s face about something crucial. First the baby and now this. What the fuck was he thinking keeping whatever happened last night a secret? Jared had a fucking _right_ to know.

He knew if he turned to face Jensen, it would result in a yelling match to outshine every other argument they’d ever had and Jared _couldn’t_. Jensen was too fragile for that right now. He couldn’t take another blow and Jared was tired of fighting. So damn tired.

Jared shrugged. “Figured you don’t need me around since we’re not talking.”

“Jay—” Jensen sounded hurt, but he still wasn’t talking, just _stalling._ Fucking figures.

“Go back to sleep, Jensen,” Jared said, not waiting for a reaction before he slipped out of their bedroom.

As soon as the door fell shut behind him, Jared took a moment to breathe and not cry or punch a fucking hole in the wall. He curled his fingers into fists and closed his eyes.

He knew where he had to look for answers.

  
****

 

There was no way to hide the shiner Jensen sported or the bruises lining his cheek and jawbone.  Angry welts had swollen around Jensen’s wrists, coiling on his alabaster skin like snakes.

Wiping at the fogged-up mirror in their bathroom and staring at his own bruise-mottled reflection, Jensen contemplated a movie-like escape through the bathroom window. He wondered how far his legs would carry him before Chris’ motorcycle would catch up with him, the loud steel rumble echoing through the icy autumn wind.

Jensen put some antiseptic cream on the cut on his cheek and the split lip. The wounds had already started scabbing over and the swelling around his eye socket had gone down a bit.

He still looked like shit, though. He looked like a damn victim. And he _was._

Outside the bathroom there was a commotion, a ruckus of voices and pots and cutlery coming from the kitchen below. The smell of eggs and what he supposed was burnt bacon turned his stomach. He propped himself up on the sink, head sagging between his shoulders as he sucked in a few measured breaths, forcing yet another bout of sickness down.

Jensen had never felt this sick with Kelly.

_‘It could mean that it’s a girl,” the forensic physician smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood. She had collected all the necessary evidence while the policemen had asked all the questions they needed answered by Jensen. To say the encounter was uncomfortable was the understatement of the century, which - combined with the sharp scent of antiseptic - was probably the reason why Jensen had thrown up in the damn examination room during the medical examination. As if his victim-status hadn’t already been undermined enough by the fact that he was a carrier, Jensen had to go and give these suited monkeys one more reason to pity him. After the bout of sickness, the physician treated him like he was made of glass and Jensen hated her for it. “A study has shown that carriers who suffered from severe nausea were more likely to have a girl than—”_

_“Can we just get this over with, please?” Jensen broke off her rambles, aching to go home after the hellish nightmare he’d just lived through. He just wanted for the night to be over. He just wanted to crawl into bed with Jared and forget._

Brushing his hand over his lean stomach, Jensen took a deep breath before returning the first aid supplies to the cabinet.

There was no way Jared was going to let this go. Jensen realized that now. One way or another, Jared would find out about what happened last night and he’d make sure Fuller paid for hurting Jensen, for trying to take their happiness from them.

The truth of that sank in slowly, like a rock sinking in muddy water.

And it should have probably elicited some sort of panic inside of Jensen. It should have propelled him into action. But all it did instead, was render him in a state of resignation.

Letting out a sigh, Jensen felt calm as he pulled a fresh white tee over his head. He slipped on a pair of clean boxers and shimmied into his jeans before splashing some ice cold water into his face. He checked himself in the mirror once more, satisfied to see that his cuts weren’t bleeding anymore.

Jared had made Jensen question _every_ moral stance he had ever possessed.

Avenging the fucker who’d damn near killed their unborn child didn’t even make it on the list.

  
****

Tom Welling was a force to be reckoned with when he was angry.

Mike had been going at it with him for hours now and so far, Tom’s self-righteous annoyance showed no sign of slowing. Mike was seriously considering causing a pileup just to get out of this seemingly endless discussion with his husband.

“How many times do you need me to say it, Tom? What happened yesterday was a one-time thing. It was an emergency appointment with a client and I had to go. Period.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed, hurt and anger coming off of him in waves. “So work’s more important than _us_ now, is it? ‘Cause in case you’ve forgotten, we’ve been on the waiting list to get an appointment with Dr. Callum for _months_ and it might be our last shot at starting a family.”

They _had_ been waiting for months and the appointment had cost them a small fortune.

Mike wasn’t oblivious to Tom’s hurt. He felt guilty enough for having up and left his own husband at the doctor’s appointment as it was, but he also couldn’t help being thankful he had taken that damn call. It was unimaginable what could have happened if he left Jensen to deal with this mess by himself.

“Of _course_ work’s not more important than us,” Mike declared, jaw locked hard as he sent a poignant look over at Tom. His own anger crumbled the second he noticed the glimmer of tears in Tom’s eyes, realizing for the first time since the argument had started that Tom was emotionally wound up from all the stress of the appointments and the anxiety of whether the treatment was going to work on him. Tom put himself under a lot of pressure that way.

Letting out a soft sigh, Mike reached over to entangle his hand with Tom’s, squeezing his fingers gently. “Hey,” he said, causing Tom to look up and meet his eyes. “I want this, alright? I’m sorry about yesterday. It won’t happen again.”

“Mike, watch out!!”

Mike damn near crashed their Prius into a lamp post when the black muscle bike cut them off in the middle of the road, forcing him to hit the brakes hard.

Tom cursed and they both shot forward into their seatbelts, tires squealing in protest as the car skidded to an abrupt halt across the graveled road. Mike’s heart was hammering away in his chest and his head whipped around to assess Tom, checking him over for injuries.

“You alright?”

Tom was pale and panting, but other than that he looked unharmed. He opened his mouth to answer when the door to the driver seat was forcefully yanked open. All of a sudden, Jared was there, grabbing the lapels of Mike’s coat and lifting Mike out of his seat.

“What the hell?” Tom exclaimed, startling himself into action. “Let him go!”

Mike cursed as he was forcefully yanked out from behind the wheel of his brand-new Prius. His feet were barely able to carry his weight as Jared slammed him up against the hood of the car, towering over him with a threatening expression on his face.

Mike had known things were going to end badly if they kept the truth from Jared, but he hadn’t expected for things to come to a head so quickly.

“Look, Jared. I get that you’re angry but—”

“Where is he?” Jared demanded, spittle flying from his mouth.

Mike said nothing, pressing his lips into a thin line.

Jared grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him close. “Where. Is. He?”

“Going after him will only make things worse.” Mike circled Jared’s tattooed wrists with his own fingers and shoved the taller man back, dusting off his coat as he regained his footing. “If you do anything to Fuller now, you’ll be the one who pays the price for what that asshole did to Jensen. Is that what you want? Getting sentenced for life? Your children won’t even remember what you looked like by the time they _might_ let you out on probation.”

Jared’s expression turned stone cold. “And what _did_ that fucker do to him, exactly?”

Mike closed his eyes as the words sank in. “Jensen didn’t tell you.”

Jared’s hands tightened around Mike’s shirt, jaw locked so hard his muscles were twitching.

“Mike?” Tom’s voice cut through the air and Mike let out a curse when he saw Tom rounding the car from the periphery of his vision. In the heat of everything that was going on, Mike had kept quiet about last night, not wanting for Tom to work himself up over what had happened to Jensen. “What’s going on?”

“Go wait in the car,” Mike ordered, eyes still focused on Jared. Only when Tom didn’t budge, did Mike finally cut his eyes to him. “Go sit in the _car_ , Tom. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Under different circumstances, Tom would have never put up with that kind of tone from him. But Tom must have sensed how important this was because he didn’t offer up a word of protest as he retreated back to the car.

Tom wasn’t afraid of Jared per se, but he wasn’t stupid enough to underestimate Jared either. He could breathe easier knowing Tom was nowhere close the guy when he was about to learn what exactly Fuller had done to Jensen.

“Look,” Mike bit out through his teeth, taking a step forward as he ran a hand over his bald head. “Jensen’s like family. I respect him more than you will ever know, but not telling you about what happened last night was a _mistake_.” Mike took a deep breath and closed his eyes in defeat. “They took him to NHPD for the questioning. He’s probably in a holding cell until his lawyer gets there.”

Jared’s jaw was working as he took in the words, fingers curling into fists until the knuckles turned white. “What’s his lawyer's name?”

“Wha—” Mike gave him a puzzled look, shaking his head. “What does it matter, Jared?”

“Just tell me, alright?” Jared thundered.

Mike let out a sigh. “Rotant. His name’s Charles Rotant. Look, Jared. There’s a recording of what happened. You’ll find the transcript in his file at the station.” Mike held his gaze for a moment longer, grey eyes boring into Jared’s. “I’m only telling you because I choose not to believe that you’re not a killer, Jared. So please don’t make me regret this.”

Jared met Mike’s grey eyes then, staring intently at the older man. “What are the chances of him walking away from this?”

Mike swallowed hard, gaze dropping. Fuller was a guy without previous charges, with a respectable job and a whole lot of money, all of which he could spend on pretty good lawyer. If he knew how to play his cards, he stood a good chance at getting out after one or two years. Or avoiding prison altogether.

Mike said nothing as he held Jared’s gaze.

Jared huffed out a bitter breath of air. “‘S what I thought.”

He straddled the leather seat and kicked off the stand before the loud roar of the engine filled the air. A second later and all that was left of Jared was kicked up dust and the distant rumble of his Harley.

  
  
****

Walking hurt like a motherfucker.

In all the right ways.

Jensen felt Jared inside of him with every goddamn move and it was a welcome feeling, one that helped him get over what happened the night before. It made him feel like the marks Fuller had left on him meant _nothing_ , like Jared had rightfully re-staked his claim.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Chris exclaimed as soon as he spotted Jensen from his seat at the kitchen table. The steaming coffee mug damn near fell from his grasp as he took in the bruises and swelling on Jensen’s face.

Jensen lifted his hands in defense, having expected the onslaught of worry. “I’m fine.”

“You call that fine?” Chris demanded. Sophia was sitting at the table next to him in nothing but jeans and a loose tank top, the cream cheese bagel falling from her fingers as she stared at Jensen with widening eyes.

“Oh god,” she sucked in a breath and slowly rose from her chair. She crossed the room in a few quick strides, grasping Jensen’s chin and turning his face from side to side. “Jesus Christ, Jensen. What the hell happened to your face?”

Jensen had about two seconds to wonder when Chris and Sophia had started hanging out together before Chris crowded into his personal space.

“What the fuck happened?” Chris asked, swiping his callous thumb over one of the cuts on Jensen’s cheekbone, courtesy of Fuller’s wedding ring.

“I was mugged,” Jensen answered and it went to show how fucking well his friends knew him by now, that Chris was able to call him out on his bluff.

“That’s _bullshit_ ,” Chris growled. “You’ve been acting strange all week. What happened?”

Jensen shrugged both his friends off. “I took a walk back home and some guys thought I was easy prey or something. They crowded in on me, I was outnumbered. They messed me up some, but I got away and that’s all that matters.” Jensen sighed and rubbed the back of his neck somewhat tiredly. “I don’t want this to be the one thing we remember about my vernissage, okay? Can we just forget it ever happened?”

“You’re crazy.” Chris huffed. “I’m gonna find whoever did this and—”

“And nothing,” Jensen snapped, glaring at Chris. “Believe me when I say I’ve had one hell of a fucked-up night. So all I need right now is for you guys to give me some fucking space.”

Chris was stunned into silence, Sophia hovering somewhere behind him as she stared at Jensen in a mix of shock and worry. Jensen grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge and slammed it shut a little harder than necessary before pouring himself a glass.

It only took a second for Chris to pick back up where he’d left off. “And Jared?”

“What about him?” Jensen asked, squaring his shoulders. He was so tired of this.

“You tryin’ to tell me that Jay’s alright with what these fuckers did to you?” Chris demanded, voice coming out angry and agitated. To anyone who didn’t know Chris, his behavior would have probably come off as aggressive, but to Jensen, this was a clear sign of how concerned Chris was by all of this. “That he’s okay with this?”

“You’re gonna have to ask him that yourself when he’s back,” Jensen bit out.

  
****

 

The golden rule when you grew up on the streets was to know the right people.

Nothing was ever impossible as long as you kept your handler on speed dial, a few bricks in your pockets and a born-to-kill attitude at hand. Even after years out of the business and being out of his usual neighborhood in South Boston, Jared got the fake ID in less than an hour.

“Who did you say you were again?”

“Charles Rotant,” Jared said, putting in place his best fake smile. “I’m the lawyer of your latest suspect, Kurt Fuller. I came to discuss a few things with my client.”

The reception at the New Haven Police Department just so happened to be a twenty-something-year-old, pretty thing. She peeked up at Jared with a mix of flustered curiosity and skepticism. She didn’t seem off-put by his questionable fashion sense or by the set of tattoos that were barely covered by the second-hand suit he had borrowed. This was almost too easy. “You can call my office for references. Now if you don’t mind letting me in? I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

He kept his head down on purpose, first studying his own business card before handing it over, then letting his strands of hair fall into his face whenever she glanced up at him.

“Of course,” she smiled up at him, handing him a form to sign.

Jared scribbled something completely illegible and handed the sheet back with a small smile. She returned the smile cautiously and exchanged the form for a key card and a badge. “Suspect’s all yours.”

 _‘Damn right he is,’_ Jared thought and snatched the badge off the counter. “I’m gonna need to take a look at his file first. Could you get that for me, please?”

The girl rushed off to bring him the folder as a cold look settled on Jared’s features.

_Showtime._

  
  
****

 

There were stages to Jared’s rage. So far, most of his anger had come out in bursts of violence - like a lightning flash - an electrical current that unloaded itself into the air, his fury was unleashed like an explosion.But not today. Not now.

Today, Jared’s rage was so potent, so mind-blowingly _fierce_ that all he felt was a sense of serenity when he entered the interrogation room at the police station.

Fuller was sitting there in the same clothes he’d had on the night before, dark circles rimming his eyes as he lifted his head to look at Jared. His pig-eyes went wide with shock, the blood draining from his face as he stared at Jared. “What--”

“Shut the fuck up you piece of shit.” Jared’s voice was no longer his own. It was a guttural sound, a low, threatening rumble that was foreign to his ears.

Yanking his tie loose with a sharp tug of his wrist, Jared circled Fuller until the air was bristling with tension - until the silence became unbearable and Fuller squirmed in his seat like the fucking maggot he was. Fuller swallowed convulsively, clearly distressed by the fact that the police had allowed Jared inside the interrogation room. “I have a right to an attorney—”

Jared couldn't listen to this shit. Before he knew it, he grabbed Fuller by the neck and laid him out flat against the steel table, one arm twisted behind his back while Jared’s strong forearm pressed down against the back of Fuller’s neck. It was a move Jeff had taught him ages ago, painful and effective. Incapacitating without doing any actual damage.

Fuller let out a choked grunt, squirming harder as he tried to twist out from Jared’s restraining hold. Jared leaned down slowly, breathing hot air against Fuller’s ear.

“Please do-mpphh—” Jared clamped his hand down on the fucker’s mouth, eyes fixed somewhere on the wall, not even looking at Fuller as he spoke. A cold smile spread across his features as Fuller’s struggles picked up with panic, cuffs rattling as he whimpered and panted uselessly against Jared’s palm.

“So you were gonna fuck my boyfriend, huh?” He asked. “Fuck that kid right out of him?”

Fuller’s desperate pleas and denials were muffled against Jared’s palm as he frantically shook his head ‘no’. Jared wrench Fuller's arm even further and twisted it into the small o this back until his shoulder joints were strained far enough to put him into a world of pain.

“Shhh, shhh,” Jared hummed. “What was it you called me? A good-for-nothing criminal? Well, there’s a good side to being a criminal, Kurt. I have lots of friends holed up in prison and they can’t wait to get their hands on a sicko motherfucker like you. And believe me, I’m gonna make it my personal business to spread the word on you.”

Fuller thrashed weakly against the table, but Jared kept him pressed mercilessly against the ungiving steel surface.

“Do you wanna know what happens to child molesters and rapists in prison?” Jared’s voice was ice cold, but it was also eerily smooth, like a knife cutting butter. “They get a taste of their own medicine. They get to understand the meaning of the word ‘rape’ close and personal. You’ll have dick shoved so far up your ass you won’t be able to take a shit properly ever again. You’ll cry yourself to sleep every night, afraid of what’s gonna happen to you, constantly looking over your shoulder in case someone will pounce you and slit your throat.”

Fuller was breathing heavily and Jared dug his fingers so hard into the guy’s arm that they drew blood, pulling his arms up higher just to hear the guy grunt and moan in agony.

“And if you try to pull some legal screw and get out on probation before your time’s up?” Jared hissed. “Then I’ll be waiting for you. And believe you me - Kurt -  the things I’m gonna do to you, they haven’t invented _names_ for, yet. I’m gonna make your time holed up in the pit look like fucking _Disneyland_ in comparison.”

The guy blinked at him slowly, blood draining from his face. He swallowed convulsively, fear etched into every line of his face and Jared was silent, basking in the despair that ebbed off of the man. They were both breathing heavily when Fuller gave a jerky nod in understanding.

Jared gave Fuller’s arm another painful dig with his fingers before he released him.

“One way or another,” Jared said. “You’ll wish you never cast a shadow on Jensen."

  
****

 

Jensen sat on the tiled bathroom floor for a long time, until his feet went numb and someone started hammering on the door. Heart kicking up in his chest, Jensen wiped at the tears on his face. “Just a second!” he yelled, standing up on stiff legs.

This was the third time he’d gotten sick since Jared had left this morning. It was his second shower and the second time he’d tried to scrub his skin bloody. No matter how often he washed his hands and lathered up his skin, he could still feel Fuller’s touch burn his skin.

He looked at his reflection in the cracked, dirty mirror and ran a hand over his weary features. His hair was messy from the shower, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen. Walking over to the basin, Jensen switched on the faucet and ducking his head and taking a long swallow of it. He winced when the cold made his teeth ache, relishing in the distraction that was pain. The insistent hammering picked up exactly in that second, growing louder and more erratic and Jensen scowled as he straightened up. “I said I’m coming!”

He shut the water off again and ran his wet hands over his face and through his grown-out, dirty blond hair before drying them on his jeans. He unlocked the door and found Jared standing on the other side.

Heart lodging in his throat, Jensen blinked at his boyfriend in stunned silence.

“Jay, what—” was as far as he got before Jared shoved him back inside and slammed the door behind them. Without a word, he backed Jensen up against the edge of the sink until his shoulder hit the mirror cabinet hanging above the basin. Jensen winced at the unnatural angle, spine forced into an uncomfortable curve, nowhere to look but up at Jared’s furious expression. “What’s going on?”

“You tell me,” Jared snapped. “You fucking tell me, Jensen. Cause I’m sick and tired of all the lies and the fucking silence. I want a damn explanation. You fucking owe me that much. You owe me as your boyfriend. If nothing else, you owe me as the father of your _kids_.”

“Like you don’t already know what happened.” Jensen was breathing heavily.

Jared got his fists into Jensen’s shirt then, yanking him close. He was towering over Jensen with a furious glint in his eyes, shoulders squared with tension. His whole body screamed threat but that was just fine with Jensen. He knew it was Jared’s default mode, his natural defense mechanism when words no longer cut it.

“Gonna hit me, Jay?” Jensen taunted, jutting his chin out in defiance. It was pure provocation. He knew Jared would never harm a hair on his body. “That make you feel better?” He stuck out his jaw, gritting his teeth, reading for a fight the way Jared had taught him. _‘If you’re too late to run, go down swinging’_.

“Well, guess what?” Jensen whispered with a bitter curl of his lips. He looks at Jared, his gaze bright in the cold morning light. “This ain’t a situation you can fight your way out of.”

“Fuck you, Jensen,” Jared spat out. His eyes were filled with the kind of hurt he would never allow anyone else to see. “What the fucking hell were you _thinking_? Letting that bastard corner you like that? Buying into his goddamn blackmail? And what for, huh? So that I wouldn’t get hauled off to prison?” Jared was fuming, his chest was rising and falling so quickly Jensen got dizzy watching it. His eyes were wide and his voice was like thunder, deep and shaking Jensen to the bones. “I’ve had prison destined for me ever since I was fourteen years old and pullin’ off my first five-finger discount at the seven-eleven. I grew up on the streets, Jensen! You seriously think I’d take you getting hurt that way over a few years holed up in the slammer?”

“Jared…” Letting out a weary sigh, Jensen slumped back against the door and stayed pressed against the cool wood as Jared started pacing their bathroom, relentless like a tiger in a damn cage. He closed his eyes in weary defeat and something inside of Jared broke.

“Jen—” Jared cut himself off, voice cracking. And Jensen could see it then. He could see the moment Jared’s anger transformed into something else and he finally gave in, to whatever it was. His face crumpled and his hands reached up to drive through his shaggy hair, pulling on it until tears bit his eyes. “What were you _thinking?_ ”

When Jensen didn’t offer up a response, Jared crossed the distance in one stride and Jensen didn’t even flinch when Jared caught his wrists and shoved him back down against the wall, snatching his wrists and securing his arms above his head.

“Let me go,” Jensen demanded, trying to lash out with his knees and elbows, but Jared only tightened his hold. “Goddamnit, Jared!” he cursed angrily, struggling hard and getting himself out of breath for his trouble. Jared didn’t budge from where he was easily restraining his boyfriend. “Let go! Let me go, you fucking—”

“Shut up and listen,” Jared growled with enough authority in his tone to make him shudder. His eyes were ablaze with wild fury, but his posture was a bastion of calm, not a muscle twitching out of place as he held Jensen in an unyielding iron grip. Jensen put another surge into trying to escape, but Jared held him tight, not giving an inch. “I said listen! You take care of yourself and you take care of our children and _that’s_ how you show me that you love me. Not by letting yourself get extorted. And most fucking certainly not by letting yourself get fucked by some dirty, perverted piece of scum. No matter the fucking cost, you put your life and the lives of our children about mine, you fucking understand me?”

Jensen glared at Jared, but he was right and Jensen was sick of fighting, too. He just wanted for things to be easy between them again. He wanted it so goddammed much. So, he took a deep breath, and surrendered. And with another breath, he made himself relax and stop fighting, the tension leaving his body. Only did then he feel Jared loosen his grip.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, lowering his head. Truth was, he was ashamed of himself, of the way he had tried to keep something so important from Jared, of the way he had tried to ignore the huge elephant in the room, of the way he had let this thing twist him up so much inside he couldn’t even see right from wrong anymore.

“I didn’t want—” Jensen’s tremulous voice broke. He swallowed, looking anywhere but at Jared. “Nothing happened. We just kissed. It didn’t go any further. I thought I could go through with… what he wanted, but I couldn’t do it. Not with the baby and— and I was just so afraid of losing you, Jay. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Jared reached down to cup his cheek, rough fingers tracing his jaw. The look in his eyes held no accusation, left no doubt about how deep his emotions ran. He rubbed his thumb over Jensen’s bottom lip and then leaned down until their foreheads were touching. Jensen put his arms around Jared’s neck, dragging him close. They hesitated, near enough to trade a hot breath, too near for either of them to see a damn thing other than the dark blur of the other’s eyes

“To kill you and me there’d only have to be one bullet, Jensen,” Jared whispered.

Jensen locked eyes with Jared - knowing and accepting the truth of that statement. It never fazed to humble him, though, how deep their love really ran.

Instead of answering, Jensen twisted his fingers in Jared’s hair and pulled, tugging him down into a soft kiss. Jared nipped at his mouth, breathing going heavy as Jensen’s free hand roamed his chest. Jensen moaned softly when Jared’s teeth scraped his bottom lips. They parted, foreheads touching, both trying to catch their breath. “Promise me, from here on out we’re in this together. Boston or New Haven, pregnant or not. I just… I can’t do this without you. I refuse to.”

Jared took a moment to reign in his emotions. “Yeah, deal.” He nodded and cleared his throat, gently disentangling himself from Jensen’s hold. “No more fucking secrets, either.”

Jensen swallowed, eyes dropping to the ground as he thought about Jack and the deal they had struck with Jared’s wayward brother. Jared wasn’t going to be thrilled about that.

“There’s something I haven’t told you about,” Jensen said quietly, eyes cast aside as a knot tightened in his stomach. “But can it wait until tomorrow? I promise I’ll tell you. I’m just… really tired.” Then, in afterthought, Jensen added. “And _hungry_.”

Jared looked like he wanted to protest for a moment, but then he seemed to think better of it and his expression softened, some of the fire leaving his eyes as he nodded. “Yeah, alright. Let’s get you and the munchkin fed. It was a long couple of days.”

 

****

 

Jared took Jensen to a place a little outside of town where they served 24-7 breakfast.

Jared ordered himself a large black coffee and then stuck out his tongue at Jensen when Jensen shot him a glare across the table. “You’re doing this to torture me, aren’t you?” Jensen groaned, lightly bumping his knee into Jared’s leg beneath the table top. Then he turned back to the waitress with an apologetic smile. “A cup of chamomile tea and the—“ his voice trailed off as his eyes skimmed the menu once more. “Spanish omelet, please. And can you put extra mushrooms in?”

“You got it.” The waitress scribbled down their order and vanished out of sight.

As soon as they were alone, Jared smiled a secretive smile and Jensen flipped him the bird across the table. “Shut up. It’s your kid having all these weird cravings.”

“Damn right it’s my kid.” Jared’s smirk grew wider, a deep warmth pooling deep in his stomach at the words. And it was kind of crazy, how much he was on board with having another child with Jensen – how much he was starting to look forward to having another little munchkin running around in their house, driving them up the fucking walls.

A few years ago he’d have bailed at the mere mention of kids and now he was damn near glowing with pride and happiness at the thought of becoming a father again.  

They didn’t talk much at all, just waited for the food to arrive in comfortable, easy silence. “Remember when we went to I-Hop after that night at the club? That time you threw up all over the waiter’s shoes?” Jared chuckled softly as the memories replayed in his mind. Jensen delivered another kick to his shin beneath the table.

“Oh, shut up,” Jensen growled with no real heat in his voice. “I still can’t believe you let me drink all that Tequila.”

“Let you?” Jared cocked an eyebrow. “If I’d told you to quit, you’d have drunk twice as hard just to defy me.”

Jensen smiled at that, ducking his head bashfully because he knew it was true. “It seems like so long ago,” Jensen eventually muttered with a wistful expression on his face and the expression – coupled with the bruises on his features – made him look younger somehow – more vulnerable. Jared reached across the table to grab Jensen’s hand, fingers slotting together effortlessly.

It was just then, that the waitress arrived with the food, setting down a plate that looked like she’d bought one of everything at the farmers market and thrown it in. Well, maybe not everything, but there was a lot in there; potatoes (though in the form of hash browns), tomatoes, onions and a load of mushrooms, just as Jensen had ordered. The omelet smelled of garlic and herbs and it had a healthy, orange color – probably coming from happy-ass chickens.

Jared snatched a greasy hash brown from Jensen’s plate. He always stole food from Jensen, not because he was hungry but mostly because he knew it annoyed the hell out of his boyfriend.

As expected, Jensen swatted Jared’s hand away with a look that promised murder. “Get your own, you mooch. Jesus, there’s one thing I didn’t miss about you being gone.”

He rolled his eyes for good measure, digging into his food, but Jared could see the tiny upward curl of his lips, the barely disguised happiness in Jensen’s green eyes as they fell back into their familiar ways.

Jared settled back in his chair with his coffee and a satisfied smile on his lips, watching Jensen practically inhale his food with an appetite that spoke of hours – if not days – of not having eaten properly. The thought wiped the smile off his face quicker than a bucket of ice water.

He thought about what Jensen had gone through in the past couple of days and couldn’t fight off a sense of crushing guilt. How often had Jensen skipped a meal or spent the night sleepless, thinking about the kid he was likely to lose or worrying about Fuller.

Jared looked at Jensen, bruised and battered but still fighting – still _smiling_ – and thought he’d never been more in love with Jensen than at this very moment. He had never felt more pride and more awe for the person sitting in the diner chair in front of him.

Overtaken by his emotions, Jared gave Jensen a dopey grin across the table. Noticing Jared’s staring, Jensen stopped eating with a puzzled frown on his face. “What?” he asked.

“Do I have food on my—“

Jared shut Jensen up by leaning far enough over the table to press a chaste kiss to the younger man’s lips.

Jared pulled back far enough to look deep into Jensen’s emerald green eyes. The other patrons were starting to shoot them looks from the side, but Jared didn’t mind as he reached up to gently cradle Jensen’s bruised cheek. “I missed you.”

Jensen blinked in surprise at the gentle admission. Then his gaze softened and a small smile spread on his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jared responded truthfully.

Without another word, Jensen leaned in to slot their mouths back together.

They ended up kissing until Jensen’s food grew cold.  

 

****

 

Back at the house, things almost seemed as though the past month hadn’t happened. Jared had wrapped his leather jacket around Jensen’s shoulders to shield him from the cold and steered him toward their porch with an arm slung around his lower back.

Jensen seemed light-hearted, despite the upcoming surgery and everything that had happened with Fuller the night before. If Jared didn’t know any better he would say it was due to a huge weight lifted from his chest. Or maybe it was simply because they were back on the same page. Either way, Jared knew he had made the right decision coming back.

He wasn’t sure where they were going from here because things with the Reapers were far from being over. But for now, Jensen and their little family were his main priority. They’d take whatever came next, one step at a time.

Jared nudged Jensen forward towards the door to their duplex when Jensen tripped over a pair of shoes that looked strangely like Katie’s pink Vans (complete with the neon colored shoelaces and the hole in the toe of the left shoe). As soon as Jensen started to stumble, Jared caught him around the waist, steadying. “Careful.”

Jensen’s gaze was still zeroed in on the shoes, brow furrowed in surprise. “Jay, what—”

Before Jensen could fully process the thought, the door to their house was yanked open from the inside.

“SURPRISE!”

They were greeted with the chorus of half a dozen voices he was very familiar with. Before Jared could even register what was happening, there was a loud bang as a small round of confetti exploded over the porch - much to Kelly’s amusement if the way the four-year-old laughed hysterically was any indication.

Jensen flinched, hunching and half-raising his arm in defense just as Jared’s arm circled around his middle, pulling him close. Tiny piece of brightly colored paper flew through the air around them just as Katie and Steve lifted a banner with ‘CONGRATULATIONS, COLLEGE BOY’ spelled out in wobbly, colorful finger paint.

Jensen floundered uselessly, unsure of what was happening and resisting the urge to cover-and-roll so he could get out of the line of fire. A whole bunch of their friends was there and they were all scattered out around the living room and the kitchen with matching grins on their faces. There were various snacks set up around the coffee table and the kitchen counter, a few half-empty beer bottles already lining the floor next to the couch and the dinner table. The sink in the kitchen was filled with ice and beers and there was a pizza baking in their oven, explaining the overwhelming scent of tomatoes in the room.

Jared couldn’t believe his fucking eyes. How had they all got here? How had they sat up all this stuff in the hour-or-so it had taken Jensen and him to grab some food? He was utterly baffled, taking full stock of the situation and finally deeming it non-threatening.

“My god, take a breather before you pass out, Jenny,” Chris commented from the side, cheering at them with the half-finished beer in his hand and it was only then that Jared noticed the pallidness of Jensen’s skin.

Katie came up to Jensen first, a wide smirk splitting her face in half. She was wearing tight jeans and a red leather jacket, matching most of their other guests who were decked out in flannel and jackets.

“Katie--” Jensen opened his mouth somewhat uselessly and the next second, he had his face and mouth full of Katie’s frizzy, brightly colored hair as she slung her arms around him and hugged him for all she was worth. “Hi, handsome. I missed you.”

Over her shoulder, Jensen’s eyes met Jared’s in a mixture of disbelief and confusion. “I don’t understand… How did you guys—”

“We heard about that exhibit being a huge success and thought why not celebrate?” Katie said, going on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead. She brushed confetti from his hair with a soft smile, fingers skirting down along the side of his face. Her usual cheerfulness was dulled with concern for Jensen, Jared could tell. She was trying not to make it too obvious, but Jared knew that the sight of Jensen’s battered face must have been hard to stomach.

She ducked her head and glanced up at the bruises that were visible on his face. “Chris told us about what happened and we kind of wanted to check if you were okay. Figured that you might need us to take your mind off of things.”

“I—” Jensen stuttered, spitting out another pink flake of paper and Kelly gave another chortled laugh at that, pointing his pudgy little fingers at Jensen in excitement.

“Daddy’s eating the ‘fetti,” the four-year-old gleefully declared, making Jared smile.

Steve stepped up next to Katie and Misha - freaking Misha- was close behind, grinning hard at the baffled expression on Jensen’s face. “I think we might have broken Vince Van Gogh, here,” Misha commented. “Seems like he’s a bit overwhelmed.”

“He’s fine,” Jared said protectively, putting a hand at the small of his back, right above the waistband of his jeans where his shirt had ridden up. “Just give him a second to take it all in.”

“He’s not too good with surprises,” Chris supplied unhelpfully. Sophia was standing next to him, but his eyes were fixed on someone else, someone in the crowd with auburn hair and pale skin and bright red lips. Danneel.

Jared could sense the tension, there - in the way Chris was staring and Danneel wouldn’t even so much as spare Chris a glance. These two had so much unspoken crap between them that was physically painful to watch. Just fan-fucking-tastic. Jared could only hope Chris had been smart and respectful enough not to actually start anything with Sophia when he was still pining after Danneel.

“Who’s watching the stakeout?” Jared asked, grabbing Steve’s biceps as he passed Jared by and holding the older man’s steady gaze. “Chad and Gen keeping watch?”

“Yeah,” Steve reassured. “And Chase. Besides, we’ll be back in a few hours.”

Jared gave a jerky nod, too tired to put up much more of a resistance. As a gang leader, his insides recoiled at the thought of leaving all their weapons and ammo guarded by three people only. He could only hope the rest of the gang was careful.

Next to Jared, Misha pushed his way through the crowd and hugged Jensen next, ruffling his hair as he did so. “Make sure to buy me a jacuzzi once you’re a big-fish artist, alright?” Misha pulled back to scan his face with a mix of worry and empathy on his face. “And don’t go for walks in dark alleyways at night without Bigfoot there to watch out for you, huh?”

Jensen smiled, the shock finally wearing off and changing into sheer happiness at the sight and sound of all his friends and family being reunited in their home. It almost seemed too good to be true.

“I’ll drink to that,” Jared agreed heartily and winked down at Jensen before taking a sip from the beer Katie had handed him.

Jensen looked up at him. “Did you know about all this?”

Jared smiled. “Nah… they came up with this all by themselves.”

Jared felt a warmth blossom in the bottom of his chest, secretly thankful for having such good friends. He was almost certain that Chris knew something was up beyond the lie about the damn mugging. Chris seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to Jensen and Jared was sure that by now, their friend must have figured out that something much much worse had happened to Jensen than getting beaten up by strangers. He must have been the one to organize all of this.

Jared sent a look across the room to where Chris was standing in the kitchen, pulling a steaming pizza (it had mushrooms on it, which shouldn’t be as endearing as it was) from the oven and cutting it into equally big slices with Kelly’s help. Watching his friend - so ruthless and gruff around the edges on a normal day - being so gentle and playful with Kelly would never stop to astonish Jared.

After a second or two of watching Kelly giggling as Chris burned his tongue on the mozzarella cheese, Jared noticed that he wasn’t the only one staring. Danneel had a strange sense of longing in her eyes as she watched the scene unfold.

Jared felt the urge to talk to her and make that sorrowful look disappear from her features when Steve suddenly spoke up next to him.

“So tell us all about your magical vernissage,” Steve prompted.

Jensen’s smile wilted from his features and it hurt to know that no matter how successful the art exhibit might have been for Jensen, it would forever be tainted by the memories of what that bastard Fuller had done to him.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Jensen said softly, gaze dropping to the floor.

Jared’s arm tightened around Jensen’s waist.

“Let’s just catch up, alright?” Jensen prompted softly and Jared saw it for the hidden plea it really was. Some of his desperation to change the topic must have shone through because nobody put up a protest.

“Want some pizza, Jenny?” Chris piped up from across the room and Jensen seemed so relieved at the distraction that he broke into a soft smile. “Yeah, I could eat,” he said, crossing over and lifting Kelly up to the counter before peppering the toddler’s head with kisses.

“About damn time you started eating again.” Chris loaded Jensen’s plate with three slices of pizza before handing it back and Jensen took a bite.

Ignoring his friend’s mother-henning, Jensen made a guttural sound somewhere in the back of his throat as he chewed, closing his eyes in bliss, even though he was most likely not all that hungry after the load of food he’d just had at the diner.

Jared nursed his beer quietly, just taking in the presence of the people they loved and then he strode over to his family, wrapping his arms around Jensen from behind, one palm pressed against his stomach as he pressed a kiss to Jensen’s neck, making him shiver.

When he eased back, Jared put his beer down and focused his full attention on Kelly, instead. “Hey bud,” Jared said, voice gentle with bone-deep affection. Kelly’s features were so much like his own, but his eyes were all Jensen, down to the auburn ripples around his irises. God, Jared loved him. “After you’re finished with your food, you wanna go out for a bit and play catch?”

Kelly’s eyes went huge. “YES!!” He gave an eager nod of his head and then practically leaped off the kitchen counter to sling his small arms around Jared’s neck in a fierce hug.

****

The gang only stayed for an hour or two before heading back to Boston.

By the time they had all said their goodbyes, Jensen was half-afraid Jared was going to swing himself back onto his Harley and leave, too.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he hugged their friends goodbye alongside Jensen and a teary-eyed Kelly, who was already getting tired from the excitement of the day and couldn’t, for the life of him, understand why aunt Katie and uncle Misha and everyone else had to leave again.

He was too young to understand that their friends were caught up in a gang war and that what they had done today, taking a rare break from all the damned violence, was a once-in-a-lifetime exception.

It wasn’t until much later, when the grill had chilled and their friends had long since left again and Jared had headed off to read a bedtime story to Kelly, that Jensen got a call from Mike.

“Hey, Mike. What’s up?” Jensen put the phone between his ear and shoulder, rinsing off the dishes before stacking them into their dishwasher.

“Have you seen the news?” Mike asked in a suppressed voice, sounding upset. Jensen’s stomach coiled up tight with fear. A cold sweat broke out on his skin as he closed his eyes.

“No,” he said carefully, slowly. “Why?”

“Turn on the news, Jensen,” Mike hissed on the other end of the line. “And then tell me Jared was at least smart enough to not have gotten himself caught on a camera.”

The bottom of Jensen’s stomach dropped out on him as he turned on their TV with wooden fingers, eyes swimming as he turned up the volume. The news was on. And there, in big bold letters stood: _Yale University - Dean of Yale Art School Commits Suicide in Holding Cell._

“He hung himself,” Mike explained and Jensen’s mind was racing, his mouth falling open in protest even as the words got jumbled up in his throat.

“He hung himself with shoelaces.”

Heart racing, Jensen took in a shuddering breath, propping himself up on the kitchen counter as his knees threatened to buckle.

“I’m gonna try and do damage control, but - fucking hell, Jensen - what you and Jay got going there… it’s… it’s messed up.”

Jensen could only listen as Mike hung up on him, eyes dull and vacant as he tried to wrap his head around what had happened. Fuller was dead. Fuller was dead. He wasn’t ever going to get out of prison on good behavior. He wasn’t going to molest anyone ever again and Jensen was sure that no matter how fucked-up of a person that made him, that knowledge was going to make him sleep better at night.

He knew Jared hadn’t wrapped that noose around Fuller’s head but Jensen knew - without the sliver of a doubt - that whatever Jared had done or said to Fuller in that holding cell was the reason for why he was dead.

“Y’alright?” Jared was suddenly there, wrapping an arm around Jensen from behind and Jensen felt his hot breath on his neck, then the tender brush of his lips, burning as it made contact with his neck. When Jensen didn’t reply, Jared must have followed his gaze over to the TV, where they were showing pictures of Fuller on display.

Jared was quiet for a long moment, before releasing his hold around Jensen’s waist and letting out a deep sigh.

Jensen switched off the TV and faced him. “Do they have anything on you?”

“Don’t know,” Jared said with a small shrug.  “Even if they do, I didn’t kill him. Just made him wish he was dead.”

Jensen pressed his lips together, tears stinging his eyes as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Mike said he’s doing damage control, whatever that means… I just— Jay.”

“Jen.” Jared stepped close, ran his hands up Jensen’s bare arms, not slow but fast. He sent an electrical current straight to Jensen’s heart, letting his hands cover Jensen’s soft skin until it was tingling. And this- this was everything. This was worth every goddamn bad thing that had happened since he’d run into Jared damn near six years ago.

Maybe Mike was right and their love was messed up. Or maybe what they shared was so special that the rest of the world just couldn’t catch up with it.

“He’s never gonna hurt you again,” Jared said, wrapping his strong arms around him. He surrounded Jensen in a warm, protective embrace and Jensen felt the world around him drift away as he squeezed Jared back, closing his eyes as he molded himself against Jared’s chest.

“It’s over.”

 

****

 

Jared was looking deep into his eyes, every emotion laid bare for just a second, just a moment’s hesitation, he thrust into him at a steady, maddeningly slow pace, both of his hands tangled with Jensen’s, fingers locked and blood singing.

Jensen arched his back, writhing helplessly as he felt Jared move inside him. He bit his lower lip to hold back a whimper, thighs trembling as he felt the earth spin once more.

Jared’s moving faster now, whispering softly in his ear, breath moist against his sweaty neck.

Jensen shuddered, hips snapping in time to match Jared’s quickening pace, arching into Jared’s hand as it wrapped around him, stroking him. _‘God. God, don’t stop. Don’t stop, please—’_ he heard himself pleading, voice all shot to hell because they’d been going at it for what seemed like forever now, tangled up in the sheets and in each other.

The delicious thrusts rocked him harder into the mattress and Jensen’s fingers clenched down hard on Jared’s when a searing light exploded behind Jensen’s eyes, every muscle locking up as his blood went soaring, heart racing so fast his other organs couldn’t keep up with it.

He came down shaking and trembling. Jared manhandled Jensen so he was lying on his side, plastering his sweaty chest to Jensen’s back before hugging him close and nuzzling his back. He was not usually big on cuddling but tonight they both needed the physical connection. Engulfed by Jared’s body heat and still coming down from an orgasm, Jensen felt his eyes getting heavier by the second, drifting in and out of sleep.

“You’ll be there, right?” Jensen muttered, voice slurred and hoarse.

He could feel Jared smile tiredly against his neck. “Gonna specify that for me? There where?"

“At the hospital,” Jensen said, suddenly feeling scared of what lay ahead of them. "Tomorrow, I mean."

He could feel the huff Jared breathed out, the rush of warmth tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. “ _Jensen_.”

There was so much meaning in that one word.

“Go to sleep.”

_I’ll be there._

A small smile crept upon Jensen’s lips because this definitely felt like things were back to normal between them. As far as normal went, anyway.

“Love you too, big guy,” Jensen murmured before he drifted off to sleep.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Hope you enjoyed the update! Are you still hanging in there and enjoying the ride? Now that Fuller is dealt with, we're going back to the main storyline in the next chapters. Boys are back together and on the same page again, but things are far from being over. Big thank you goes to my beta, Kimenem for being her amazing self and showing so much patience. If you are still enjoying the story and its characters, please take a second to share your thoughts with me. :)) THANK YOU <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings* for bad language, physical violence, implied Mpreg, surgery, graphical descriptions.

**Open Highway** **  
** **Chapter 13**

_Jensen couldn’t move. His whole body was paralyzed, frozen in place against the hardwood surface as fingers dug into his wrists. A heavy weight was pressed against his back and Jensen’s skin was crawling with revulsion. Hot breaths panted heavily against his neck as somebody moved on top of him, inside him. Jensen tried to scream, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but lie there and take it._

_The breathing grew heavier, mingled with groans of pleasure until they were replaced with choked-off wheezes. Suddenly the hands fell away from around Jensen’s wrists. He turned around, finally able to move again and gasped in shock when he saw Fuller’s face. The man’s eyes were protruding from their sockets and his skin was tinged an unhealthy shade of blue as he hung from the ceiling, swaying back and forth._

_Jensen scrambled back, falling off the table as he screamed and screamed until his voice grew hoarse and all the breath had left his lungs. Tears were coursing down his cheeks. Fuller’s eyes were fixed on Jensen. Even in death._

Jensen bolted up in bed, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. His eyes latched onto Jared, who hovered over him.

“Easy. Take it easy.” Jared was on his knees on the mattress, keeping a safe distance as he held both palms up in surrender. His face was flooded with concern, but he didn’t make a move to touch Jensen, knowing it usually took the younger man a few seconds to collect himself. “Take a deep breath. You back with me?”

Jensen didn’t realize he was shaking all over, tears spilling from his eyes, even as he furiously wiped them away. “I saw him,” he said, his voice breaking.

Jared didn’t ask who he was talking about. He didn’t have to.

“Fuller,” Jared realized.

Jensen gave a jerky nod and just like that, Jared moved forward. Jensen leaned into him without hesitation, the way he always did, shaking all over. Jared wrapped an arm around Jensen’s shaking shoulders and pulled him close, burying his nose in Jensen’s sweaty hair. Jensen’s sunk into Jared’s body heat, burying his face in his boyfriend’s neck and waiting for his heart to match Jared’s rhythm.

“I’m sorry.” Jensen blinked up at Jared, tears clinging to his eyelashes.

Jared cradled Jensen’s face with his hand. “Don’t you dare apologize. Not for this, you hear me?”

“Would you--” Jensen broke himself off, driving a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t think I can go back to sleep. Not after… Do you mind if we—”

“Anything you need,” Jared said, looking at Jensen with his heart in his eyes, offered up to Jensen.

_‘Have it. Take it. Do whatever you want with it.’_

Their eyes met for a long moment and Jensen felt himself draw strength and comfort from Jared’s presence before they eventually climbed out of bed and got dressed.

 

****

 

They ended up in the garage together, working on one of Jared’s long-term projects.

It was a squadron blue Royal Enfield vintage bike and Jared had bought it off his boss for a few hundred bucks about a year ago. He had opened all the nuts and bolts, removed the plastic bodies and started to disassemble it completely before changing the engine to a V6. But even after assembling everything back together, the bike wasn’t running smoothly as Jared had wished for.

Which was why they were both in the garage at five-thirty now, covered in grease and sweat.

The garage smelled like dirt and oil and a little tang of yard clippings. The concrete was hard where Jensen sat on the floor in a pair of old jeans, but the autumn air was refreshing, a cool tickle against Jensen’s skin as he watched Jared work.

“I’m not getting a good throttle response from this one,” Jared explained, wiping sweat from his brow as he climbed over the worn leather seat and crouched down before the bike’s crankshaft. “Could be a handful of things, but I’m guessing it’s the acceleration cable.”

Jensen listened to Jared go on about checking the coils and quality of fuel, enjoying the serenity in Jared’s voice, the knowledge, and experience behind each word.

Jensen had rarely seen Jared calmer than when he got lost in his work and it was contagious somehow. Jensen started to feel his own heart slowing as they worked together.

Jared kept up the running commentary to soothe him in the beginning. The soft rumble of words washing through Jensen like a balm for his soul. But as the sun slowly rose on the horizon, Jensen started to listen to Jared’s words rather than to just observe his work; eventually, his natural curiosity started to shine through.

“What about the brakes?” Jensen asked, remembering that Jared had mentioned some kind of braking problem at the beginning, just a day or so after purchasing the bike.

Jared hid a smile as he continued working, tightening the nut screw around the new cable with his wrench. He wasn’t smiling because Jensen was interested, but because it was a sign that he felt better- that whatever soothing technique Jared tried to work on him, seemed to work.

“You know,” Jared muttered softly, shaking his head. “I remember when I first learned how to ride a motorcycle, Jeff took me aside and told me _‘It’s not about how fast you can go, it’s about how smoothly you can brake’_.” Jared huffed out a snort, eyes containing a fond twinkle at the memory. “Back then... I was just some stupid teenage punk. Of course, I didn’t listen.”

Jensen hung on Jared’s lips as he spoke.

“I had a bad crash not too soon after,” Jared went on. “Brake pads were screwed. And so was I. Broke my leg in three places, lost a lot of blood, bad concussion. You get the picture.”

Jensen swallowed, picturing Jared broken and bloody on the side of some dirt road. The thought made him sick and instilled a fear in him that hurt too much to think about.

“I never got on a bike with braking problems, since.”

Jensen looked at Jared for a long moment before he got up and circled the bike on the truing stand. He sat down backward on the leather seat, legs straddling the fuel tank. “This one’s got drum brakes, right?” Jensen patted the seat, eager to change the topic. He was anxious enough already without picturing Jared hurt and mangled after a crash.

Jared dropped the wrench and wiped his grease-smeared hands on his ripped jeans. “Right.” He got up, taking a step forward toward Jensen. “Which means what, exactly?”

“Means you shouldn’t ride this one too aggressively,” Jensen explained with a smug little smile on his lips. Nobody could ever say he wasn’t a good listener. Of course, the fact that he had a photographic memory was an added bonus. “Makes the brake pads go hot, which means the metal’s expanding, which means poor braking.” Jensen bit his lower lip as he stared up at Jared with an innocent smile on his lips. “Correct?”

Jared’s mouth curled into a slow smirk as he held Jensen’s gaze. Then he bowed forward to put his palms on either side of Jensen’s waist, his face hovering mere inches over Jensen’s, their lips almost touching. Jensen’s eyes fluttered, heart beating wildly in his chest, but for a whole other reason this time. For a _good_ reason.

Jared’s lips brushed Jensen’s teasingly, just a split-second of bliss before he pulled back again, eyes twinkling playfully down at Jensen. “Almost forgot what a geek you are.”

“Not a geek,” Jensen pouted, wrapping his arms around Jared’s neck. “I’m a genius.”

Jared smirked at that, huffing out a laugh and Jensen pulled him down for a kiss, the bike, and its braking problems momentarily forgotten.

It was only when they broke apart again that they noticed how light it had gotten outside, first sun rays shining in through the dust-covered windows.

Jensen glanced down at his watch and let out a soft sigh. The short moment of lightheartedness couldn’t replace the pressing dread of what lay ahead of them. Only a couple of hours left before they had to drive to the clinic.

“Jared, if something goes wrong today—”

“Nothing’s going wrong,” Jared countered, voice filled with a strength and reassurance Jensen no longer possessed at this point.

“There’s something I still need to tell you.”

Jared sighed. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until after the surgery.”

“You’re not gonna like it,” Jensen admitted, looking up at Jared with wide eyes.

Jared captured the side of his face with his palm and wiped at a smudge of motor-oil on Jensen’s cheek. “I say we cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Jensen gave a soft nod in reply, realizing that Jared was right. They had a kid they needed to worry about. Everything else, and that meant absolutely everything, came second.

“C’mon,” Jared gently tugged on Jensen’s wrist, pulling him off the bike and back towards the house. “Shower’s waiting.”

 

 

The hospital hallways were crammed with patients, some on trolleys, some tended to by strained relatives. The cheap print on the walls was so lacking in vibrancy that they appeared sun-bleached in the windowless strip, the drywall showing through like white scars along the wallpaper.

Jensen had become immune to the melancholic and depressive gloom of hospitals, hardened by repeat exposure and long hours of working. But today he felt it deeper than ever before- the lack of natural daylight, the lack of clean air and the confinement of the narrow hallways. The overwhelming sense of grief and raw tension.

His fingers tightened around Jared’s as they stepped up to the counter. “Hi. My name’s Ackles. I’m scheduled for hysteroscopic septoplasty with Doctor Clark. He’s expecting me.”

The nurse glanced up to look at them. “I’m gonna call Dr. Clark and tell him you’re here.”

“Thanks.”

While the nurse made the call, Jensen leaned into Jared, trying to get his heartbeat under control. It was only 8am and Jensen felt like the day was never going to end, seconds dragging by agonizingly slow as they waited for the doctor to come. Jensen told himself that he was going to be calm and collected, a 100% professional. But the truth was that he could barely stand upright with how nervous he was- how downright terrified that something might go wrong.

“Doctor Clark’s on his way,” the nurse informed them, putting the receiver down. “You can sit and wait over there,” she added, gesturing behind them to the row of free chairs in the waiting area.

Jared had to practically carry Jensen over and guide him into a chair because his legs felt like they were going to buckle any second.

“Hey,” Jared said softly, crouching down in front of Jensen and brushing a strand of hair from Jensen’s face. “ _Hey._ It’s gonna be fine, alright?”

“You don’t know that,” Jensen countered defeatedly, all his worries and fears suddenly befalling him. “There’s so much that can go wrong.”

“But it won’t.” Jared entangled their fingers and squeezed Jensen’s hand for a moment before his eyes wandered down to Jensen’s middle. He exchanged a soft look with Jensen as if to ask for permission before he pressed a hand over the lower half of Jensen’s belly.  

He was quiet for a long moment, taking in a deep, cleansing breath as if to steel himself for what came next. When he finally spoke again, his voice was soft and gentle, just like when he spoke with Kelly. “Hey, there, little one. It’s your daddy.”

This time the words were accompanied by the softest of movements, Jared’s warm fingertips tracing the flat skin where Jensen’s soon-to-be-belly would be in a few months.

“Listen up now, cause this is important, alright?”

Jensen’s throat closed up on him, eyes stinging.

“Your papa and I, we haven’t really paid you as much attention as we probably should have in the past few weeks. It’s because we got caught up in some other stuff.” Jared swallowed thickly, veins protruding on his neck as he struggled for the right words. “Stuff that caused us a lot of stress. But you’ve struggled through all that. You’ve made it so far, despite all the craziness, which means you’re a _warrior._ A fighter by nature.”

Jared looked back up at Jensen then, eyes overflowing with emotion. “And that makes sense, too. Cause your dad? He’s one hell of a fighter. He’ll go hell for leather for those he loves.”

Jensen couldn’t help it. A tear slipped free.

“Jay,” he whispered brokenly.

“See, we got crappy timing, your dad, and I. But even though you weren’t exactly planned, you’re still _wanted_. And that means you gotta be brave for us now. Fight like you’ve never fought before. And we know you can do that, right Jen?”

“Right,” Jensen choked out and Jared offered up a gentle smile in return.

He couldn’t believe how tender Jared got sometimes. Considering his reputation and what he was capable of, nobody would ever believe the softness Jared hid beneath ten layers of hardass-attitude. At his core, he was a protector and caretaker. Somebody who always seemed to know what his family needed and gave it in spades without asking for anything in return.

Overtaken by emotion, Jensen grabbed Jared’s wrist and pulled him up. He tangled one hand in Jared’s hair and leaned forward for a slow kiss, pouring every bit of emotion into the gentle caress. They were still kissing when Doctor Clark walked up beside them.

The doctor cleared his throat and they pulled apart somewhat bashfully, Jared’s joints cracking in protest as he rose to his feet.

Jensen got up from his chair as well, eyeing the dark-haired doctor, who looked even suaver in person than he did in the photos that Jensen had found online.

“Mr. Ackles,” the doctor’s silky voice greeted. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Jensen blushed as he extended his hand for Doctor Clark to shake. As he did so, the corners of the doctor’s lips dragged upwards into a kind smile.

“Dr. Phillis told me about you. She thinks quite highly of you, if I might say.”

Jensen blushed a bit harder, unsure of how to respond to that when Jared cut in from the side. “With all due respect, doctor. Can we skip the small talk and get this over with?”

“Jared,” Jensen murmured disapprovingly.

The doctor’s smile never wavered as he clamped his clipboard under his arm. “You must be the husband, then?” he assumed. “I fully understand how frightening this must be for you. But I can assure you that Jensen and the baby will be in very good hands. Now would you please follow me?”

Neither of them got another word out before Dr. Clark turned heel and glided down the hall, leaving them no choice but to follow. They went through several corridors and Jensen found himself distracted by the typical hospital buzz, doctors and nurses passing by them on all sides until they eventually ended up in an elevator.

“Here we are,” the doctor announced as soon as the elevator doors opened on the fourth floor. There was a door opposite to the elevator and Doctor Clark led them through it.

“Jensen, I’m gonna perform a few standard checks and then you’ll have to sign the consent form for me. Your husband can stay until we’re done with that, deal?”

Jensen exchanged a quick glance with Jared and nodded. Funny how neither of them made an effort to declare that they weren’t actually married. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Jared could be here with him for the last few moments before the surgery.

“Good.” Doctor Clark grabbed his stethoscope and sat down on his swivel stool. He moved closer, ordered Jensen to lift his shirt, then checked his vitals, his pulse and his blood results, seemingly happy with what he saw. “Lookin’ good so far. Now I’m gonna take a quick look at the little one, okay?”

Jensen nodded. “Yeah.”

When the doctor pulled out the antiseptic gel and rubbed it on Jensen’s belly, Jared’s hands tightened imperceptibly around Jensen’s, not liking to see another man’s hand on Jensen’s stomach, no matter how sterile and detached the touch might be.

The doctor pressed the wand to Jensen’s stomach, projecting a black and white picture of their little raspberry onto the monitor. Jensen still couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that he and Jared had done that- that they’d created a little human being, their second child.

Jensen’s eyes filled as he squeezed Jared’s hand back just as hard, thankful that they were sharing this moment together.

Jared hadn’t been to any of the appointments. This was the first time he saw his child.

“Hi there, princess,” Jared whispered, shooting alternating looks between the monitor and Jensen as his mouth split into a happy grin. Jensen’s heart ached for the future that was so close and yet still out of reach. It had never felt this real before, never been so utterly, devastatingly clear what was at stake.

“Heartbeat’s steady. Everything’s looking good,” the doctor commented and Jensen jumped a little. Between Jared calling their unborn child ‘princess’ and the little black-and-white blob on the monitor, he had all but forgotten about the other man’s presence.

“I think we’re ready to move you to the operation room now, Jensen,” the doctor said calmly. He cast a glance at Jared in passing, moving towards the door. “Jensen if you could just sign the forms and put on the gown for me, the nurse will come to get you shortly. I’m gonna give you two a moment.”

Doctor Clark pulled the door closed behind himself, leaving them alone in the small examination room.

“Did you see that?” Jared asked breathlessly, tears shining in his eyes. “That was our kid, Jensen.”

“I know,” Jensen smiled, humbled by how genuinely happy Jared was.

Jared took both of Jensen’s hands in his own and held Jensen’s gaze steadily. “You ready for this?”

“No,” Jensen huffed, sniffing miserably as fear consumed all his thoughts. Ever since he’d found out he was pregnant, Jensen had done everything in his might to push the baby to the back of his mind. Not allowing himself to get too attached because he didn’t believe that they could have such happiness in the middle of all this turmoil. He hadn’t allowed himself to hope, telling himself that the baby was a lost cause.

“I feel like if something happens, it will be my fault,” he admitted in a broken whisper.

Jensen felt like he had failed his unborn somehow, not believing in its survival. What kind of parent did that make him? What kind of monster?

“None of what happened over the past weeks is your fault, Jensen,” Jared said, voice laced with steel. “None of it, you got me? If anything you can blame me for the load of shit you’ve had to deal with on top of the pregnancy, alright? But don’t go into that fucking surgery thinking you did anything wrong, cause you _didn’t._ ”

Jensen bit his lower lip to keep from crying and gave Jared a shaky nod. They looked at each other for another second or so before Jared pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m gonna be here when you wake up.”

Jensen nodded again, but he didn’t trust himself enough to speak. He clung to Jared, unwilling to let go as they exchanged a few last hugs and kisses.

“I love you,” Jared whispered against his ears before they pulled apart.

The ‘no matter what’ wasn’t said out loud.

But Jensen heard it anyway.

 

 

Watching Jensen get wheeled off toward the OR felt like watching him get shipped off to war or something. Jared had never felt more helpless in his life.

He made his way back to the waiting room on leaden feet, feeling numb as he moved down the buzzing corridors back to where they’d sat together earlier.

It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice screech through the air, that he grew more aware of his surroundings again.

“Daddy!” Jared’s head snapped up in time with Kelly’s tiny frame barreling into him from the side, damn near knocking him over in the process. Jared stumbled back, one hand automatically going down to cradle his son’s head, even as his eyes flew up to scan the area for Chris. “Hey, buddy. What are you doing here? Where’s your uncle Chris, huh?”

“Right here,” Chris suddenly appeared behind him, holding a cup of black coffee out to Jared. “Figured you could use some company.” Chris shrugged and took a sip of his own coffee before grimacing. “Fucking hell. This hospital brew is god-awful. Wouldn’t be surprised if some of the people here are actually patients because they drank this shit.”

“Is papa getting his booboos fixed?” Kelly asked Jared, looking up at his father with wide, innocent eyes.

Jared lifted Kelly up into his arms and bounced the four-year-old up and down a little. “Yeah, buddy. Your daddy’s gonna get patched up by his doctor friends now, okay? So you gotta be brave for him and give him lots ‘a magical healing kisses when he’s back, alright?”

Kelly nodded vigorously at the suggestion. “Is papa sick?”

Jared’s heart twisted in his chest. “Just a little bit. He’ll be back on his feet, soon, though, okay, Kel?”

Despite Jared’s best efforts to keep the gravity of the situation away from Kelly, the four-year-old must have picked up on Jared’s despair and on the overall gloomy vibes in the hospital because suddenly Kelly’s chin was wobbling.

“Pinky swear?” The toddler sniffled, holding out his pinky at Jared and it actually took Jared a second to realize what they were swearing on.

“He’s gonna be just fine, Kel. I promise,” he reassured, hooking his own pinky with Kelly’s tiny one. He finished off with a quick, affectionate press of his lips against the crown of Kelly’s head and then put him back down.

Just when Kelly’s little feet were back on the ground, the toddler’s eyes went wide as he spotted something or someone behind Jared in the hospital entrance.

“Uncle Jack!” the toddler yelled excitedly before he started running.

 

 

Jared’s heart stopped beating in his chest as he turned around.

Sure enough, his half-brother was standing in the doorway.

As soon as he saw Jack standing there, something inside of Jared snapped and he was across the waiting room in a flash. It wasn’t Jack he was going for first, though. It was Kelly.

“Kel, don’t!” he snapped, crossing over fast enough to grab the four-year-old by the hood on his little sweater jacket. Kelly was jerked back and fell on his butt from the unexpected movement and Jared picked him back up.

“I want you to go back to your uncle Chris and stay there, alright?” Jared told his son who regarded him with wide eyes. He clearly didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to go greet his uncle and Jared’s mind was racing on why the fuck that was. Last time Kelly had come close to Jack, the guy had been ransacking Chad’s house. Kelly had no relation to the guy whatsoever. The mere fact that he knew Jack’s name was a surprise.

“Go on, now,” Jared urged the toddler and then Kelly was traipsing back to Chris.

“Jay, listen to me,” Chris said calmly, holding up a hand as though approaching a spooked horse. The uneasy feeling in Jared’s guts intensified at his friend’s reaction to Jack’s unexpected appearance. “Jen and I were gonna tell you about him, I swear. But we decided to focus on the surgery first and- man. It’s a long story alright?” Chris turned to Jack, expression twisting into an angry sneer. “What the hell are you even doing here, man?”

“I was just checking up on my brother-in-law,” Jack said, shoulders squared and chin lifted, his eyes fixed on Jared even as he answered Chris’ question. “That’s not forbidden, is it?”

Jared’s mind was spinning, trying to catch up with what he was hearing. He couldn’t fucking believe Jensen had gone behind his back with yet another thing. His mind was overtaken by fury and before he knew it, he had grabbed Jack by the front of his shirt and dragged him out of the stairwell. Jared whirled him around and slammed him hard against the handrail of the staircase. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing here?”

Jared hadn’t brought a gun.

For once, he had left his damn gun in the car and locked it, thinking that they were in a public location full of potential witnesses. No one was stupid enough to mess with him in a goddamn hospital. “Start talking!”

“Me and Jenny struck ourselves a deal, alright?” Jack smirked, pinned in place by Jared’s hold on his shirt. “You should fucking thank me for saving your boyfriend’s life, brother. ‘Cause that’s what I did. Go and ask Chris, if you don’t believe me.”

Jared was livid. Coupled with his fear for Jensen’s well-being, emotions were quickly getting the better of him and before he knew it he’d pulled back his fist and slammed it in his half-brother’s face, knocking him off his damn feet in one go.

Jack slumped against the rail and Jared grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him right back up. “Whatever the fuck you think you’re doing- whatever bullshit deal you offered Jensen? It’s over, you got me? You are goddamn lucky I don’t blow your brains out for coming close to them again after what happened in Boston, you understand? If I had my gun on me right now, I’d—”

“If you had your gun, then _what_ , huh?” Jack spat out, blood-coated spittle flying from his lips. He winced in pain when his split lip was jarred but curled his mouth into a lopsided smile all the same. “Kill me? What the hell for? I could have snuffed your family ten times over if I wanted, but I _didn’t._ That should tell you something about my intentions, don’t you think?”

Jared’s jaw was locked tight, heart thudding heavily in his chest. He couldn’t deal with this right now. Not with Jensen undergoing surgery and their unborn child on the lifeline.

“You stay the hell away from us, you understand? I see you anywhere even remotely close to them again and I can’t be held responsible for what I do to you.”

Without waiting for a response, Jared left Jack slumped against the wall and stormed back inside where Chris was waiting for him with wide eyes and a whole lot of regret in his features.

“Look.” His friend got up from the green plastic chair, trying to appease Jared. “I’m not a big fan of this, either, alright? I don’t fucking trust the guy and I probably never will, but Jensen had this idea to work with him and--”

“I _trusted_ you,” Jared spat out, voice shaking with so much disappointment, so much betrayal, that Chris’ whole expression fell. “I trusted you and you let this asshole into my home? You allowed the guy who broke into Chad’s house- who had a history of working with the Reapers - you allowed _him_ into my home and near my family?”

“Jared—” Chris started again, but Jared stopped him again.

“ _Leave._ ”

“What?” Chris asked, taken aback.

Jared bestowed a dark look on him. “Get the hell out.”

“But Jensen—”

“Jensen’s not your fucking concern anymore,” Jared growled out and it wasn’t until then that something in Chris’ expression shifted, the sadness and regret slowly morphing into anger.

“Not my fucking concern?” Chris snapped, his lips twisting angrily. “Fuck you, Jay! I just spent two fucking weeks by your family’s side. I drove Kel to Kindergarten and picked him back up. I made meals for him and Jensen- made sure they were both eating. I took Jen to doctor’s appointments _you_ should have been there for, talked him out of nightmares _you_ should have calmed him down from! You think that was easy?” Chris demanded, loud enough for the other patients to be looking at them.

His chest was rising and falling quickly and his eyes were big with all the pent-up anger he felt. Kelly was looking at them both with big, tear-filled eyes, obviously frightened by the commotion. “I did everything for your family, man. EVERYTHING. If you seriously - for even one second - doubt that I’d put my own life down for Jensen or your son, you’re more stupid than you look!” Chris snapped.

Jared knew he had messed up, then. “Chris—”

“And for the record? I’m staying in this damn waiting room until they’ve got news on Jensen,” Chris growled out, crossing his heavily tattooed arms in front of his chest as he made a point of plopping down in the plastic chair. “You want me out? You’re gonna have to drag me out, ‘cause I’m not here for you, man. I’m here for Jensen.”

Letting out a long sigh, Jared’s shoulders slumped in defeat and guilt. He was torn between feeling betrayed about having been left in the dark about this thing with Jack, and feeling guilty because Chris was right. His friend had been there for his family when Jared hadn’t.

“Daddy, why do you hate uncle Chris?” Kelly asked, bottom lip wobbling, and just like that Jared had a lump the size of Texas stuck in his throat.

He swallowed around it a few times and it _hurt._ Then he crouched down to be at Kelly’s eye-level, wiping at a wayward tear the toddler had spilled. He made sure Chris was listening when he spoke. “I don’t hate your uncle Chris,” he said softly. _Far from it._

There was a heavy silence for a second and Jared watched Chris’s neck muscles tightening at the words. He didn’t offer up any words in return, though, just let out a soft disbelieving snort as though he didn’t believe a word Jared was saying.

“You know,” Jared continued softly, refocusing his attention on his son. “I got a bit confused there for a second, forgot who my true family is.” Jared caught the softness that flickered across his friend’s features then, but it was just there and gone again.

Kelly seemed to get more upset by the words. “Am I still your f-famly, daddy?”

Jared felt about two inches tall as he gathered Kelly into his arms and sat down in the green plastic chair next to Chris with the toddler in his lap. “Of course, you are, kiddo.”

He hugged Kelly against his chest, one tattooed hand coming up to cradle the back of the toddlers head and blinking hard as the emotions overwhelmed him.

Chris managed to give him the silent treatment for about five more agonizing minutes before he spoke up again, voice quieter than before. “Rich was my friend, Jay. I was closer to him than any of you and I wasn’t even there when he…”

“I know,” Jared whispered over the top of Kelly’s head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just… I’ve been stuck in New Haven playin’ housewife and meanwhile my friends are facing their own private hell in Boston. Do you have any idea how goddamn useless I felt, sitting there and doing nothing to help?” Chris shook his head. “And then Jack showed up and it just made sense to use him as a snitch or something.”

Jared squeezed his eyes shut at that. He pressed his lips together because he knew better than anyone what a snake Jack was, how easy he could manipulate people without them noticing. The thought of Jack being anywhere close to his family made him sick. But Jared kept his mouth shut and said nothing. He just tightened his arms around Kelly instead.

Chris sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “You can be pissed at me all you want, but man, Jared, you can’t let any of that anger out on Jen.”

“I won’t.”

Jared felt Kelly’s breathing even out against his neck. He wasn’t quite asleep yet, but his eyelids were drooping, the excitements of the day having worn him down more than he probably realized. Sometimes Jared forgot how young Kelly still was, how much he picked up on emotions rather than things that were actually said or done.

“But you gotta tell me everything, Chris,” Jared said. “I wanna know what went down between you and Jack. You gotta fill me in on all of it.”

Chris let out a measured breath and nodded. “Alright. But, dude. I’m gonna go and have a fucking smoke first. This whole drama has me all riled up, man. It’s like the two of you and your soap-opera-like arguments are fucking contagious or something.”

Jared smiled despite himself as he watched his friend go. Just before Chris could vanish out the door, he called him back again, waiting for him to turn around. “Thanks for staying.”

“You mean despite you acting like an asshole?” Chris asked, only half-joking. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. After so many years, I’m kinda used to it.”

Jared flipped him off and Chris actually cracked up a little, some of the residual tension evaporating into weary exhaustion. They were all just so worked up from everything that had happened in the past few weeks. Tensions were high, nerves frayed.

They would have to take things one at a time.

 

Jensen came to slowly, eyelids fluttering even though they felt like the weighed one hundred pounds. He struggled to wake up against the thick fuzziness suppressing his consciousness.

As he became more aware of his body, he felt a sense of soreness in his abdomen, but nothing beyond that.

“You gonna open those shiny peepers sometime soon?” Jared’s rough grumble filled the room and only then Jensen became aware of the hand wrapped around his own.

His vision was blurry when he finally cracked one eye fully open to look at Jared. His boyfriend swam in and out of focus before him until Jensen concentrated really hard. Jensen’s breathing turned heavy when the memories of why he was here hit him full force and then his free hand shot down to his stomach as if to look for a belly that had never been there, to begin with. Heart skipping a beat in panic, Jensen’s frantic eyes latched onto Jared.

“Is it—”

“You are fine,” Jared said quickly, leaning forward in his chair. “Both of you.”

Jensen’s vision blurred as he let out a choked noise, hand coming up to cover his mouth as relief washed through him like a tidal wave. It was as though he could breathe for the very first time in forever. “Oh god,” he choked out as the fears and worries of the past three weeks fell off of him like broken chains. “Oh god. Jay. I was so damn scared.”

Finally, there was no more reason for bravery, no more reason to hold back his tears. Not when Jared was there to squeeze his hand and to look at him with so much love that it hurt.

“Told you the raspberry was a fighter.”

“It’s more the size of a plum now, you know?” Jensen smiled through his tears, wiping the wetness from his cheeks with shaking fingers.

Jared smiled and his dimples showed, even as he looked down at his lap. “Yeah, well, whatever. It’s always gonna be a raspberry to me.”

Jared got up and leaned over the bed rails to press a gentle kiss against Jensen’s lips. His palm settled low on Jensen’s belly, stroking the patch of skin through the flimsy hospital gown. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now.” Jensen smiled and then Doctor Clark strode through the door, catching them unaware. They scrambled apart somewhat awkwardly, having been caught making out by the doctor twice now like lovesick teenagers.

“Gentlemen,” Doctor Clark gave them a knowing smirk as he took his stance by Jensen’s hospital bed. “Mr. Ackles, good to see you awake. The procedure went over according to protocol. The baby’s vitals are strong as far as the test results show. You’ll take a few days to heal, but nothing a bit of bed rest and medication won’t fix.”

“No more medication,” Jensen said, stunning both the doctor and Jared.

Dr. Clark tried to blow him off with a small chuckle. “Look, Mr—”

“Call me Jensen.”

“Alright,” Dr. Clark said, the smile wilting a bit. “Jensen. I can assure you that the use of analgesics during pregnancy does not pose a threat to you or the child you’re carrying.”

“What are you giving me? Opioids?” Jensen asked. “‘Cause I can tell that you got me hooked on the good stuff. I’m guessing oxycodone. Any level of exposure of morphine-like agonists during pregnancy can increase the risk of reduced amniotic fluid in the womb.”

“Jensen—” Dr. Clark tried to interrupt him one more time, but Jensen wasn’t having it.

“Look, doctor. I appreciate your professionalism,” Jensen said, giving the physician a long stare. “But this is the first time I actually believe that my baby is going to make it since I found out I was pregnant. So I’m not gonna do _anything_ to risk the baby’s well-being, you got me?”

A chagrined, thin-lipped expression settled on the doctor’s features as he gave a nod in understanding, obviously having a hard time holding back his own two cents on the topic.

It was true that certain OTC painkillers were relatively harmless during pregnancy and of course, heavier drugs like anesthetics posed a greater threat and were only used when needed. But Jensen was done taking risks where his baby was concerned.

“You know the stress the pain will put you under is just as unhealthy for the child as the actual—”

“I have a very high pain threshold,” Jensen cut the doctor off with a tight smile and the surgeon’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Alright, then,” Dr. Clark said. “I’ll get the necessary documents. We’ll do a few more checks and wait until the IV is done. Then you’re free to go home.”

As soon as the doctor was gone, Jared sent Jensen a look.

“What?” Jensen asked, daring Jared to defy him on this.

“Nothing,” Jared muttered. “Take it easy on McDreamy, though, alright? He just performed a flawless surgery on you. You might wanna take it down a notch.”

“Jared, I’m done taking risks,” Jensen declared. “I just wanna go home.”

Jared squeezed his hand with a smile. “Alright.”

 

They broke the news to Kelly over dinner that evening and suddenly Kelly’s favorite spaghetti and meatballs didn’t taste as good anymore.

“But, Daddy!” he whined, tugging on the hem of Jared’s shirt as he cleaned up the kitchen. “I don’t want a brother or sister!” the toddler complained, dark eyebrows drawn together with worry as his bottom lip wobbled.

“Kel…” Jensen sighed from where he leaned against the kitchen counter, making a move forward as if to try and pick Kelly up and comfort him.

Jared stepped between them, shooting Jensen a warning glare over his shoulder.

“You heard the doctor,” Jared said. “No heavy lifting.”

“He’s not heavy.” Jensen rolled his eyes, but Jared could tell that he was barely standing up on his own legs, face pale and body swaying.

The lack of meds had set Jensen back on his heels. He was trying to hide it well, but Jared knew that Jensen was suffering and it just about killed him to see Jensen’s pained little winces whenever he moved the wrong way.

“Kelly, having a brother or sister is the coolest thing in the world, okay?” Jared tried to comfort his son. “It’s someone you can play with and share all your secrets with, okay? They will be your friend for life, buddy.”

“But I have fwiends at school! And I don’t wanna share my toys!” Kelly cried, looking up at Jensen now with big baby blue eyes full of sadness. Without warning he barrelled into Jensen’s side, burying his face in Jensen’s slacks. “Please don’t have another baby, Papa. I love you."

Jensen grunted from the unexpected onslaught of pain at having Kelly almost knock him over and Jared had just about enough of the four-year-old’s temper tantrum.

“Kel, this is not up for discussion,” he replied crisply, turning back to the dishes in the sink.

“But I’m gonna be a good boy, I swear,” Kelly vowed solemnly against Jensen’s leg.

“Kel,” Jensen sighed, running his hand through Kelly’s messy hair. “I know you’re afraid that the new baby will make us love you less, but it won’t.”

“Yes, it will!” Kelly sobbed. “A-and you- you will love it lots and give it all my toys and forget all about me… and the baby will h-hate me.”

Jared actually had to smile at that. Their son just shy of five years old and he already was way too smart for his own good. Other kids his age would probably barely grasp the concept of what pregnancy even meant, but here Kelly was, worried about having to share his room and toys with the soon-to-be addition to their family.

He exchanged a knowing little smirk with Jensen, letting his boyfriend do the comforting.

“How can you say that, huh?” Jensen asked, gently disentangling Kelly from his leg before he kneeled down to be at eye-level with the toddler. “Look at me, Kel,” he whispered, tilting their son’s chin up so that he had to meet his father’s green eyes. “Your little brother or sister is going to love you more than anyone else in the entire world. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” Kelly asked meekly, sniffling miserably.

“Because you’re going to be their big brother and that will mean the world to them,” Jensen told him seriously. “You’re going to be their protector, their secret-keeper, their partner in crime and their best friend. And you are going to make an amazing big brother, Kel. I know you will.”

Jensen’s eyes were sparkly and he was smiling the sort of smile he usually reserved for whenever Kelly did something incredibly astonishing. Like when Kelly had learned how to read just a few months ago or when he’d started talking in full sentences by the age of two. Or when he gave them one of his crinkled, dog-eared drawings with a gap-toothed grin.

“Really?” Kelly whispered, trying not to smile.

“Really,” Jensen replied, kissing him on the forehead. Kelly beamed up at Jensen and then over at Jared, as though the thought of being a big brother suddenly appealed to him.

He glanced over at Chris who had watched the scene unfold without interfering and then crossed the kitchen to leap into Chris’ arms. “Uncle Chris, I’m gonna be a big bwother! Just like you and daddy and uncle Jack.”

The brief moment of happiness snapped so quickly that Jared didn’t even notice the sudsy plate falling from his grasp. It hit the bottom of the sink with a loud clatter, breaking in half.

Jared turned around slowly, hands still wet and covered in dish soap as he looked at Jensen. His boyfriend’s eyes were wide with panic at the four-year-old’s innocent babbles.

Jensen’s mouth hung open but no words made it past his lips as Jared stared at him. It took a moment for him to gather his bearings before he took a step toward Jared. “Listen, Jay. I was going to tell you—”

“Don’t bother,” Jared said. “Jack showed up at the hospital.”

“He _what_?” Jensen exclaimed. “But—”

“Chris told me everything,” Jared continued calmly, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I know about the bugs. The deal you two got going. _Everything_.”

Jensen’s expression twisted with guilt and sorrow. His fingers somehow snatched a handful of Jared’s shirt, eyes wide and beseeching as he stared at Jared. “I meant to tell you last night, but then with the surgery—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jared said, expression serious as he gently pushed Jensen back, breaking the hold Jensen had on his shirt. “Whatever was going on between you and Jack is over now. Whatever deal had going with him, it’s off the table. Finished.”

“Jared, I really think—”

“Yeah, maybe you should do less of that, huh? It keeps getting us into trouble!” Jared snapped, his calm exterior finally cracking. His eyes were wild when they met Jensen one last time, full of accusation before he managed to reign it all back in.

“Don’t follow me,” Jared muttered and took off toward the door.

 

Jensen probably shouldn’t have driven the Camaro around in the state he was in. He was pretty sure Dr. Clark would smack him over the head for being stupid enough to drag himself out to the damn cabin at night, in the middle of October.

So much for bed rest.

Jensen found Jared in the clearing where they’d set up the cans for shooting practice. It was one of Jared’s go-to places whenever he needed time to get his thoughts sorted.

Usually, Jensen would leave him be. He would allow Jared space and time to blow off some steam, ride his bike at full speed, empty a full clip into anything within distance- whatever his boyfriend needed to calm down. But tonight he’d felt compelled to follow, not wanting the betrayal he’d spotted in Jared’s eyes to fester.

“You shouldn’t have fucking come,” Jared muttered without turning around.

Jensen had underestimated the utter blackness of nighttime in the woods. The trees were nothing but big black trunks against the charcoal sky. The narrow path before them, made uneven by the knotted roots that crossed it, barely recognizable in the dark.

The blackness was disorientating, blinding Jensen as he sank down into a patch of grass next to the cabin’s small porch, just opposite of where Jared was standing with his gun in his hands. He bit his lip against yet another onslaught of pain, waiting for it to ebb off again.

By now, Jensen’s insides felt like somebody had gone in there with bare hands and rearranged them. Everything hurt, even the tiniest of movements setting a fire in his chest. The abdominal cramps wouldn’t stop, no matter how often he had tossed and turned on the couch in their living room or how many herbal teas he’d drunk. Nothing helped to relieve the pain. So he might as well be out here in the dark with Jared.

“Well, I’m here now, so…” Jensen let the words trail off into nothingness.

Even the soft rustle of the tree branches felt heavy in his ears. The scent of the soil and the decomposing leaves made the atmosphere heavy and thick.

“You don’t trust me at all,” Jared said after a long moment of silence between them.

Jensen took a deep breath and released it. “That’s not true.”

Jared snorted, shaking his head. It was a bitter sound, one filled with hurt and anger and Jensen was glad that he came to sort this thing out between them.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d freak,” Jensen admitted. “Having Jack in our home, close to me and Kel? You were never gonna allow it to happen.”

“And with good reason!” Jared whirled around, voice cracking through the woods like thunder. Jensen shivered at the anger in his tone. “You don’t fucking know Jack like I do! You’ve got no idea what he’s capable of! There’s a fucking reason why I chose to cut him from my life.”

“What reason?”

Jared shook his head with a huff, mouth clamped shut in denial.

This was a familiar game, Jensen pushing for answers that Jared wasn’t offering up. But they had been together for six years now and they were expecting their second child. Jensen had a right to know about Jared’s past. Especially when it was catching up with them.

Jensen sighed. “What happened between you and Jack?”

Jared took the empty clip out of his gun and put the safety back on. His movements were mechanical, his expression detached as he shoved the gun into his waistband and walked over to Jensen. Without a word, he sat down on the grass beside Jensen, bodies aligned from hips to shoulder.

He was quiet for a long moment before he started talking.

“He’s seven years older than me,” Jared started. “I didn’t even know he existed until he showed up on our doorstep about a year after mom got killed. Claiming to be my brother. He was just this sixteen-year-old freak, covered in tattoos, had more metal in his face than I thought humanly possible, had half a shaved head and wore ripped jeans.”

Jared’s voice softened at the memory. “Jeff fucking hated him from day one. But I was… intrigued.” He let out a huff of air like he couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been and Jensen wordlessly reached over to grasp Jared’s hand, entangling their fingers.

“How did you know he wasn’t lying?” Jensen asked softly.

Jared snorted at that. “Have you seen Jack?” he asked, shaking his head. “When he laughs… the dimples. There’s no doubt in my mind that we’re related.”

Jensen nodded. He’d noticed the similarities. Everyone had.

“I idolized him,” Jared continued softly. “Thought he was the only real thing I had left of my mom, you know? The only real connection.”

Jared ran his thumb over Jensen’s, voice gruff as the memories resurfaced.

“He was a bad influence in every way. Doing drugs and shooting guns and swearing like a fucking sailor. He knew I was young and worshipped the ground he walked on, so he made use of that. Made me shoplift crap for him, trade messages for his goons. He made me drop my first pill when I was thirteen.” Jared lowered his head, staring at his lap. “I threw up the whole night and it was Jeff who was there for me, holding my damn fucking hair. Jack was off somewhere, not giving a fuck if I lived or died.”

“That’s horrible,” Jensen whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Jared’s head turned to look at him. “He sold me out when I was fifteen.”

Jensen’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. “He what?” he rasped out, unsure if he’d understood Jared right.

“Jack was broke and in debt. He owed money to the wrong crowd, got himself into some deep shit with a few gangs in Boston, the Reapers being one of them. Lucian had a score to settle with Jeff, and even back then he knew that there was no quicker way to bring Jeff to his knees than by coming after me. So he set me up. Sold me out.”

“What happened?” Jensen asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jared shrugged. “I got away, but it was a close call.”

Jensen swallowed thickly, knowing that whatever happened must have been horrible if Jared refused to tell him. He imagined Jared at fifteen, long-limbed and innocent and totally outnumbered. He was just a kid back then.

“Jeff put the fear of god in Jack,” Jared explained. “He damn near killed him, he was so angry. I was just… disappointed. Betrayed in the worst possible way. Sure, we never got on that well, but he was my big brother. He was supposed to--” Jared broke himself off.

He curled his lips into his mouth and said nothing for a minute, composing himself.

Jensen let go of Jared’s hand and turned so that he could capture Jared’s chin, pressing a soft kiss to the older man’s lips. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he breathed out.

Jared wrapped an arm around Jensen’s shoulder, just holding him there. “Jack is full of hatred, Jensen. He never got over the fact that my mom abandoned him as a child.”

Jensen nodded again.

It all made sense, somehow. Jared’s mom had been in a bad shape when she got pregnant the first time. From what Jared had told him before, she had still been a minor back then and in a relationship with an abusive asshole. She’d given Jack to an orphanage, left him there in the hopes that someone else would adopt him. But by the time she’d gotten pregnant with Jared, she was older, more mature and ready to take on responsibility for her life.

It must have been hard for Jack to see Jared and hear about how much Mary had doted on him, while she’d all but forgotten about Jack’s existence. Jack must have projected all his disappointment and hurt over Mary’s abandonment on Jared after she was dead.

“Ty’s planning to execute you,” Jensen admitted in a shaky whisper. “He wants to set an example for the gangs by ruining you, taking everything you love.”

Jared tensed against him at the words. “Jack tell you that?”

Jensen nodded. “Jay, I know you don’t trust him. Hell, I don’t trust the guy, either. But he may be our only chance at taking Ty down.”

Jared shook his head in denial. “No, Jensen. You’ve only just gotten out of surgery. You’re pregnant. There’s no way I’ll—”

“Jared, think about it,” Jensen sighed. “With him being around, it will be easier to keep tabs on him. We’ll use him to get intel on Ty while they think their plan is working out. It’s too big of an opportunity to pass up.”

“What the fuck, Jensen?” Jared growled, his anger spiking back up again. “What part about Jack being a lying, backstabbing piece of shit don’t you understand? And you wanna do what exactly, invite him back to our house for a cup of tea?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Jensen said. “But as of right now, Jack’s our only direct link to Ty. We _can't_ let that go.”

Jared still seemed reluctant. “Jen, I don’t know. You said it yourself, anything that poses a risk to your health or the well-being of the baby—”

“It won’t come to that,” Jensen promised. “Not with you there to watch out for us.”

Jensen leaned in to press another kiss to Jared’s chin, then one more to the corner of his lips, until he finally brushed their lips together, cajoling a lazy, open-mouthed caress out of Jared. He bumped their foreheads together, noses brushing as their breaths mingled. Somehow Jared’s hand found Jensen’s stomach, cradling his belly protectively.

“I just want this thing to be over,” Jensen admitted in a raw whisper. He wanted to go back to how things were before any of this happened. Back to having a home and a daily routine and his family safe and together. “I wanna go back to our old lives, Jay.”

Jared’s second arm came up to pull Jensen into a tight embrace.

“I know,” he whispered. “Me too.”

  


 

Jack’s lip was swollen, dried streaks of blood still caking his chin as he sat in the Reapers’ clubhouse, nursing a glass of whiskey.

“Jay’s got a mean right hook, huh?” Ty chuckled with a glint of malicious glee in his eyes as he uncapped the bottle of whiskey and took a gulp from the bottle head. He gasped as the sting of the alcohol washed down his throat, face half hidden behind a veil of blue smoke from the half dozen cigarettes that were lit up in the room.

They were all gathered around the long table and Jack squirmed a bit in his seat, feeling their eyes boring into him.

“So Jay kicked you out, huh? Didn’t like you sniffin’ around his family, did he?”

Jack swirled the golden liquid in his glass, watching as the whiskey nearly sloshed over the rim. He didn’t look at any of them when he started talking, eerily aware that there were at least five guns laid out on the table top, all loaded with bullets that had his name written on them.

“He’ll call,” Jack said confidently. “Invite me back into their home.”

“And why the hell would he do that?” One of Ty’s most loyal goons piped up, sounding pissed off and impatient. He had his tattooed fingers curled around his gun like he was two seconds away from jumping up and putting a bullet between Jack’s eyes.

“Because,” Jack said, looking up to glare at the fucker. “I know Jared. And I know that his resolve will crumble the second Jensen takes a stand for me.”

“And then what?” Ty demanded.

“Then I show Jared how sorry I am for what happened between us, for how estranged we’ve become… and slowly but surely he’ll see that I’ve changed. We’ll set up some staged attack on his brat and I’ll swoop in to save the day, save the tot’s life. He’ll trust me after that, eat right out of my hand.”

Ty smirked, clearly pleased with the coldness in Jack’s tone, the detached look in his eyes. He was talking about this like it was just another day in the office - as if setting up the slow murder of his brother and four-year-old nephew wasn’t a big deal.

Jack knew that Ty wasn’t satisfied yet, so he leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands, meeting Ty’s eyes head-on across the table. “He loves that kid something fierce, but it’s Jensen’s death that will break him. We’ll do it slowly, make him watch.”

Taking a deep breath, Jack lifted his glass back to his lips and hesitated. “You can take care of his friends in the meanwhile, distract him by taking those fuckers out, one by one.”

“I like you, Jack,” Ty grinned, lifting the bottle of whiskey and tipping it toward Jack in a pleased toast. “Here I was thinking you were just some sad dog. But as it turns out, you’re more fucked-up than I gave you credit for... a downright psychopath, one might say.”

The rest of the gang joined in on the enthusiasm, clinking beers together and drinking to the demise of their long-term rivals.

Jack got up to the table and turned toward the door, shooting one last glance over his shoulder before he left. “Ty? Lucian let Jared slip through his fingers, back then. I suggest you don’t make the same mistake he did. It wouldn’t go well for either of us.”

With that, he left, slamming the door in his wake.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! SURPRISE Update!!! :D Hope you enjoyed this one! :))) Special thanks as usual to the one-and-only Kimenem <3 You are amazing. Please let me know what you thought!!!! LOVE Y'ALL!


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